Pull Me Through
by Gabigail
Summary: Elle’s been shot and the team has to cope, however, two team members in particular are taking the situation a little too hard. SPOILER... The Fisher King Part I and into the second season. Might be a bit angst driven not too sure.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds and its characters are the creation of Jeff Davis and are copy written under CBS (as far as I can tell). No infringement upon their rights is intended. The stories written under the penname Gabigail, however, do belong to me. None are written for profit and are intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Pull Me Through: Part I

Events turned so quickly upon themselves, yet it would take time to filter through the team and in turn, slowly cast a cloud of darkness over them. Their most recent case had them working frantically piecing together the clues given to them by the unsub to find a missing girl— no one would have foreseen their objective change as the case shifted from a taunting unsub to an extremely _personal _one. _Personal _in the way in which the unsub now contacted them directly, a first since their 'quest' had begun, via Elle's extension.

"She didn't have to die!" the unsub's voice, like sandpaper, snapped loudly over the speakerphone, causing some to stop in their tracks and watch as Gideon tapped a button that cut the line. Hotchner stood beside him, arms folded tightly across his chest as he knew exactly which 'she' the unsub referred to. He stared at Gideon for a moment, didn't have to die? When Anderson caught his eye, he realised exactly what it meant. Being that the team had been working in their customary smaller groups with J.J. and Morgan on their way, if not already in Boston; following up on a lead and Reid working through the clues in a conference room. Gideon and Hotchner had been left to work through other details and interview the young man who delivered the package to Hotchner's home— all unaware of the fact that following the press conference led by J.J., the unsub had broken into Elle's flat and lay in wait for her arrival, which hadn't been long, as Hotchner unknowingly played right into his hand by sending her home with another agent. Even so, he and Gideon bore equal responsibility for the fresh chaos inflicted upon the team. Once news of Elle's undergoing life saving surgery reached them, the thought of loosing a member shook them of their confidence as emotions had begun to get the better of them—possibly clouding judgement, so when Gideon suggested that he go home to his family and get some rest, the raven haired agent didn't protest— only nodded his response and without another word, walked down the long hallway to the elevator.

He knew he ought to be grateful to have a family to go home to— but on the other hand, he knew there was no way that he could go home. He just felt that there was something that he needed to do, something that had been slowly gnawing at him ever since he arrived at the hospital. While he knew that he was indeed in the right place, he spent the better part of twenty minutes staring at her flat trying to muster up the courage to go inside. He thought of the past weeks and the events that plagued that week, the most recent in particular— all leaving a distant, drawn out aftertaste in his mouth. With each and every detail still fresh in his mind, and while he knew that once he opened the car door and closed it behind with a thud; there would be no turning back. He ever so slowly let the breath he had been holding escape his lips in a loud sigh as he gingerly cut through the police tape with the jagged edge of one of the many keys that resided comfortably on his key chain— a plastic holder protected the photograph of his wife and their son. He absently fished in his jacket pocket for the key to the flat and held it for a moment between surprisingly steady fingers before he slid it into the lock with ease, then slowly turned the doorknob and pushed open the French door.

At first, he was unable to see much— the only illumination was provided by the glittering shimmer of the silver moon that seemed to seep into the room through a soft canopy of leaves from the trees that stood proudly outside the window. Running his fingers lightly over the wall, he fumbled for a light switch and turned on the lights, casting a soft glow upon the room. As his eyes adjusted to the light, they immediately came to rest on the blood smeared on the once pristine white wall. RULES had been deliberately spelt out in large, bold, capital letters in Elle's blood, long dried a deep crimson. He then noted the dark drying stain on the carpet in front of the low wooden coffee table that remained undisturbed in front of the window seat, which he quickly assumed to be the primary crime scene. She had more than likely been so tired that she literally had fallen asleep there on the bench— as the indentation of her form seemed to be remembered by the pillows. It truly sickened him, almost in the physical sense to think that someone, the unsub no less, had done this to one of his own— he was supposed to look after his team, yet in this case, there wasn't a damn thing that he could do to protect her.

Standing in her home, it wasn't hard to let his mind wander, wasn't hard to recall the first time he laid eyes on her. He remembered how professional she had been in her attire— she wore a neatly cut navy suit, black high heeled shoes, and a white knit top. He also didn't miss how she wore her dark shoulder length hair in neat, soft waves that caressed her very straight, very strong shoulders; a contradiction to her tuff as nails exterior. She had approached him with a firm handshake in greeting and appeared eager to begin her career with the Behavioural Analysis Unit. She had also shown interest in meeting and working with Special Agent Jason Gideon, who's reputation always proceeded him, no doubt a major draw for her joining the team. He also recalled how well their interview had been one of the more pleasant ones he had experienced, not for a moment feeling like a chore and he had been very pleased with how well he thought she would mesh with the existing team members. Her first day would be a whirlwind of filling out paperwork and quick introductions, save for Gideon, who was still technically on medical leave— after which, she was briefed and would join the team in the field.

A small smile crept across his lips as he recalled how well Elle had been so incredibly poised under the pressure of her first case and he could tell in that moment that she had wanted to be an asset to the team, which she was and would continue to be. She had even managed to control her impatience while covering Gideon from a fair distance as he directed the attention of the man who used his victim as a shield. Funny how the memory then caused the sudden rush of guilt to resurface— he hadn't been able to look out for her. He found himself following the bloody trail further into the living room, where the telephone still lay on the floor amongst a secondary patch of drying blood. He looked around and then found a storage closet where he searched and retrieved a bucket, a strong cloth, and cleaning solution— then headed towards the bathroom where he filled the bucket nearly to the brim with water. Careful not to spill the contents, he returned to the entry, placed the bucket underneath the bloody message, dunked the cloth into the hot water, not caring whether it not it burned his hands and wrung out the excess before scrubbing madly at the blood stained wall. He knew full well that he was embarking on a futile task— he knew far too well that he would be far more successful in stripping the layer of paint off the wall before the stubborn blood would ever release its iron grip.

Despite the fact, at his core, he knew that at least he was doing something. It had to be better than waiting around, he mused as he dunked the cloth back into the bucket. At the very least she can return home without the evidence as a reminder of what had transpired. Besides, there was no way that Gideon would leave her side, and he'll keep me up to date on her condition, he thought as his arms begun to ache, but seeing how much more he had to do, he ignored the pain and pressed on. He continued to scrub until the pain had become so unbearable that he could no longer hold the cloth and dropped it into the bucket with a splash.

"Damn it!" he angrily cursed at the empty room and stepped back to inspect his work. The result unsatisfying and the loud sigh echoed sharply in his ears as he slammed his back against the wall and slid down until he was leaning on his heels— his elbows rested on his thighs, he then massaged his temples with his long fingers. All that effort and nothing to really show for it, as in truth, the result looked more like a failed attempt at a paint technique, rather than an attempt to erase the memory of their case. Perhaps a coat of fresh paint, new flooring and along with that, everything would return as it once was— Time would miraculously be reversed to the moments that led up to Gideon's gross miscalculation in drawing out the unsub, and his own ingenious idea to send her home to get some much-needed rest. Why hadn't I been clearer in my instructions? If Anderson had been properly informed, had he stayed with her as I thought he would— the whole situation could have been averted and Elle would not be lying half dead in a hospital bed because of us; because of me. With that realisation hitting him like a transport truck, his mind suddenly refused to process anymore. Instead, his brown eyes set back on the wall, and just as quickly he felt himself being pulled out of a trance; picked up the bucket, retraced his steps back to the bathroom and dumped the soiled water, rinsed the cloth and draped it over the buckets lip.

To Be Continued…

A/N: I ought to apologise in advance for any 'major grammatical' errors as this is the first piece I've written in a very long time in a past tense, which is another reason I've been so long in posting (it took me a while to 'get into it').


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter. With respect to SPOILERS, I guess if you haven't seen the second season... Other then that, I'm adding what I felt or could not be shown due to the confines of time in the Elle sub-plot, at least until I get to the 'fourth month point', after which I have no idea where I'm going with it. The writer's have left it so wonderfully open that the plot bunnies are holding me hostage.   
In this 'chapter' I'm switching/shifting gears a bit.

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Pull Me Through: Part II

It felt as though the weight of the world rested upon his broad shoulders. With that and a very heavy heart, Gideon waited a few minutes before resuming his pacing back up the hallway towards the familiar waiting room. He knew that Elle had been out of surgery for an hour at the very least, yet knew that he would have to be given the okay to actually see her— he had to see for himself that she would pull through. Not long after he had sent Hotchner home, one of the doctors found him leaning against the wall, obviously deep in thought,.

"Agent Gideon?" his voice was hardly above a whisper, seeing that he didn't want to startle the grief stricken agent. When there was no response, he gently tapped the older gent on his shoulder.

"Yes?" he managed to reply quietly and lifted his eyes from his shoes.

"I just wanted to let you know that you can see her now, if you like. I'm sure that she'd like to know that someone is here for her." He added simply and Gideon sighed loudly with a nod.

"Thank you." He ran he hand through his cropped hair and watched as the doctor made his way towards another patient's room; he then dashed down the hallway towards her room.

He thought he had prepared himself for what he would see— knew that he should not have been surprised by the steady beeps and constant hum of the various monitors, yet they stopped him dead in his tracks. Looking around the room quizzically, he quickly realised it possessed all the charm of a mausoleum. Equally cold and unfeeling, much the same as so many of the long corridors he had spent countless hours pacing, and the uncomfortable waiting room sitting on one of the many vinyl covered chairs where he drank far too many cups of coffee to recall— each more bitter than the last, as he waited for news. Perhaps he had become immune to it, a terrible side effect of far too little sleep, but normally the sharp, putrid smell of disinfectant or that usual hospital odour would knock anyone off their feet— yet it didn't faze him in the least. His intense gaze fell upon the lone picture that hung on the longest wall in the room— a rather predicable print used to add 'life' to an otherwise drab, sterile room; that if one truly thought about it— reeked of death.

He lingered just inside the oversized door, wide enough for the standard sized hospital beds to fit through, yet at the same time awkward in the sense that they made one feel as though they were Alice in Wonderland. Trying to steady his breath, he watched as her chest rose and fell in time with one of the many monitors. Oh Elle, I'm so very sorry, he thought wanting to close the distance between them, and yet he found himself glued firmly in place. Another doctor was in the middle of his routine, Gideon observed him as he jotted her vitals, and paused looking up at him with a warm inviting smile before he signed another sheet of loose paper in the file. Smile? That was something Gideon knew he couldn't return— well not until he was assured that she would pull through. However, how could he pretend to be so naïve, when he knew full well that good news didn't always guarantee getting out of the woods in one piece, and he knew that she was far from the preverbal clearing. His first step felt timid and yet at the same time forced, but he managed to close the distance between them and the doctor passed him with a curt nod.

His heart began to ach in his chest, felt as though it were ready to shatter into millions of pieces. In response, his eyes moistened, but the tears he hadn't shed refused him, as he stood motionless beside her. Trying to maintain a confident façade— truly wondering whether or not he should be there. After all, he had been sure that he was equally, if not more responsible for her lying in that bed than Hotchner should. He wanted to reach out towards her, wanted to run his fingers gently over her forehead in a comforting manner, wanted her to wake up so that she could be mad at him and he could apologise. It killed him to see her looking so fragile, so vulnerable, so still and he could still see the blood spattered in clumps in her beautiful long espresso locks that framed her pale face. For him, in this moment time stood absolutely still; almost as though they were in a bubble and should he move, his world would crash around him.

Glad to have closed the physical distance between them, he ignored something that had prevented him before from reaching out, and hesitantly at first, he reached out and ever so gently took her slight, soft, fragile hand between his own rough, warn and warm hands and just stared at her intently in awe and wonder— emotion finally overtook him and he let the tears free to make their way down his ruddy cheeks. He didn't bother to brush them away, just watched her through blurred vision and found himself amazed at the volume of strength she possessed within her petite frame and an extraordinary iron will to live that far surpassed anyone he knew—as he knew she could have easily given up the moment she had been shot. However, not his Elle, she miraculously managed to drag her injured, nearly broken body to the telephone before succumbing to the blood loss and losing consciousness. It had truly been lucky for her that emergency services had been swift; else he would have lost her. He only hoped that her recovery would be just as quick—he knew all too well from personal experience that while the physical scares do indeed heal over time, it is those of an emotional level that had the potential to linger longer, sometimes lasting a lifetime.

"You have to go home and get some rest." J.J. said with an arm around his shoulders. Gideon tilted his head up to see the usually perky blonde. He shook his head.

"I can't leave her alone. She needs someone here." He replied and shifted his eyes back to Elle.

"Then let me stay with her for a bit. That way you can get some rest and someone will be here for her. We'll take turns until she wakes up." She suggested with her usual, inviting smile. He finally let her pry him out of the chair and hand him to Hotchner and Morgan who both stood in the doorway. "I'll call you first if there's any change." She turned and went to sit beside Elle, while Gideon could only let himself be dragged out of the room. She took Elle's hand in hers and sat quietly for a moment. "Garcia sends her best you know? I don't think she likes hospitals much, but she said that she would come and see you. Morgan can't wait to have you back. If you could have seen his reaction, I thought he was going to kill us." She just kept talking with the hope that Elle heard some of the things she was telling her.

Reid paused in the doorway, unsure if he should interrupt the girls moment. He cleared his throat and J.J. turned towards him.

"How is she?" he inquired nervously.

"I wish she was awake, but all we can do is wait." She replied softly and sighed loudly. "They should have cleaned her up better. Don't you think?" she ran her fingers through Elle's hair. "Maybe I can get some of that hospital shampoo or something. I wouldn't want blood in my hair." She rambled. Reid reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, which seemed to calm her.

"Elle would appreciate that." He looked away for a moment. "Do you need a cup of coffee or something? I can go down to the cafeteria and get you one if you'd like." He shoved his hands in the deep pockets of his kakis pants. J.J. nodded. "I'll be right back." He left J.J. alone once more with Elle.

"You seriously have to wake up. The boys are driving me crazy." She carefully placed Elle's hand back at her side as a nurse entered the room. "I'm not sure if I should be asking you this, but is there anyway that we could wash her hair?" she inquired politely.

"I can see if there's something that we can do about that. They did the best they could with the initial clean up." She paused in thought. "Sorry, I should have known that might upset you."

"That's okay. I just wanted to make her more comfortable."

"Its nice to see that she has so many people in her corner. It gives her something to fight for." The nurse added and closed the chart before leaving J.J. to watch over her colleague. Reid returned with her coffee and they sat together talking quietly.

"How long is your shift?" he inquired.

"Gideon said that he would be back after supper." She replied in a soft tone.

"Perhaps you and I could get something to eat?" Reid suggested.

"That would be nice." She replied as she took his coffee cup and tossed it along with hers in a garbage bin. "I was 'talking' to her earlier in hopes that she can hear us." She stopped herself, feeling foolish, the blood rushed to her cheeks.

"No one really knows exactly what is or isn't heard." Reid looked down for a moment. He didn't want to run off facts and figures, he just wanted J.J. to feel comfortable. "Let her hear your voice. Keep her 'up to date'. If anything it helps you right?" he thought for a moment. Thought back to when his cousin had fallen out of their tree house. They weren't rough housing, but Reid had never quite gotten over visiting Troy. At the time, he talked to him every day; until one day, he read something that contradicted the idea that comatose patients don't respond and he slowly visited less and less. Sometimes, people do things that in actuality make themselves feel better.

"How is she?" Gideon's voice seemed to boom in the somewhat hollow room.

"No change as far as I can tell." J.J. replied and stood letting him fall into the chair and settle himself for another evening.

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The disclaimer can be found in the first chapter. I noticed a really strange error and had to fix it (hence the 'update'). I am working on the next few chapters and hope to post them soon. I appreciate any and comments, which I take into consideration during the writing process— and would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this piece thus far. I am hoping to have a conclusion soon; however, it seems to be writing itself. I have an odd sense of the direction though.

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Pull Me Through: Part III

The fire crackled in the family rooms fireplace and basked the room in its warm and gentle caress. She stirred in her sleep, suddenly feeling an icy chill work its way throughout her entire body, like a bucket of freezing water had been trickled over her— waking her from a dream filled slumber. She shivered involuntarily against the unexpected cold as she became aware of the soft music that played in the background— she thought for a moment that she recognised it from the Beatles. It took a long moment for her to open her eyes, which surprisingly adjusted to the ill lit room quickly— her lips twitched at the familiarity of the room. She then noticed the bottle of red wine that sat on the glass topped coffee table, two empty wine glasses stood alongside the bottle— she thought for a moment and the smile spread across her lips as she recalled the memory. It had felt like an eternity that she would invite her cousin Sharon, or vice versa, over for a bit of dinner, wine and conversation. They would often discuss men, makeup, hairstyles, and her wanting to join the FBI.

As quickly as the pleasant memory came to her, it was replaced by a dull pain in her head. I must have fallen asleep, she concluded as her eyes rested upon the sleeping figure on the sofa across from her. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest in recognition. This can't be! She tried to reason with herself. Sharon has been dead for ten years, she sat bolt upright and literally flew to where her cousin lay safe and soundly asleep.

"Sharon wake up!" she shook the young woman frantically and a very odd feeling washed over her.

"Oh Ellie, you worry far too much." Her words were slurred slightly— probably from the wine they had consumed late into the evening. The logical part of her knew that Sharon shouldn't or couldn't be there— she settled herself on the floor beside her and rubbed at her eyes, expecting to wake up in her own bed at home. However, when a quick pinch failed to produce the expected result, she knew the impossible was indeed fact. No, wait. I shouldn't be here—she gasped for breath as the realisation sunk in, making it incredibly difficult to breathe, so she shook her cousin once more for good measure.

"Elle, what's your problem?" Sharon slowly sat up and groggily rubbed her face with small hands— the grin on her thin lips widened. "Hey, everything's fine." She added and reached out and gently caressed Elle's cheek. "You always had the best skin, you know?" she said wistfully. Elle only shook her head in disbelief.

"I don't understand. None of this makes any sense. Why am I here? Where exactly is here?" she inquired as the temperature in the room suddenly changed, despite the warmth of the fire and another figure entered. "Dad?" she looked up at him, yet he did not answer right away, only seated himself next to Sharon.

"Peanut, I had thought that after our little chat earlier, you would have returned." He smiled warmly and gestured for her to sit between them.

"Am I dead?" she said flatly. Her statement felt cold and uncaring, even in her own ears, however, her father knew far better— he knew that it must have been a trait directly inherited from him. That detachment the bi-product of being an officer, it was an assumption that it ran in between the bond they shared of father and daughter. He and Sharon shook their heads in unison and she sighed heavily in relief.

"Aw sweetie, it's not your time. There are far too many people who need you were you are, far too many people who love you as much as we do Peanut. We'll always be right here for you when the time comes for you to return to us." He placed a strong, comforting arm around her shoulders and she let herself lean into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head as he had when she was a little girl. She missed him terribly, and Sharon just as much. It hurt to think that she would have to leave them. Tears found their way down her cheeks and she finally looked up at him. "You were always so stubborn." He added in jest— she could only manage a weak smile through her tears, she knew that she couldn't stay with them, that her father was right— there were so many people who counted on her. Sharon reached out and grabbed onto her arm.

"Oh Ellie, there will be many more nights like this ahead for us." She grinned from ear to ear and kissed Elle's cheek. Elle knew that meant goodbye.

"Always remember that we love you dearly— having said that, you have to go back." As he added the last word, it was a mere whisper in her ear as everything began to spin and fade into white— she suddenly felt very light and heavy at the same time, she felt as though she were floating or falling, she couldn't be sure which.

"Come back to us Elle. Please come back." His voice was soft, inviting, and comforting— it lured her from her deep sleep; beckoned her to wake. She tried to open her eyes, fought against the heavy lids and wondered why her body seemed to betray her mind— as though it were purposely trapping her within. Finally managing to calm herself, she slowly opened her eyes— expecting to be at home— the shooting a mere nightmare. Elle was disappointed by her surroundings. The dim light above the bed shone upwards, casting a florescent halo towards the ceiling and the soft glow of the street lamps below crept into the room via the window, providing a pleasant luminance to the otherwise cold room. Her eyes fell on her left hand, which had been placed on her abdomen and where the intravenous was, so she concluded that moving her arm wouldn't be the best thing to do. She felt the warmth surrounding her right hand, and managed to tilt her head towards the side so she could she what held onto her hand so tightly— just suppressed her gasp of shock. Jason Gideon sat in what looked to her to be a very uncomfortable chair; fast asleep, hunched over the bed and holding onto her hand in between his— his head nestled at an odd angle within the crook of his arm. His breathing appeared steady, save for the murmuring. She tried to remain still, dared herself not to move, because he appeared as though it was the first time he had managed to steal a moment of rest. She sighed, but didn't think that it would rouse him— he lifted his head slowly as if he hadn't been sure that she had produced the sound.

He found himself just staring at her for a long moment, his expression a mixture of shock and happiness. She tried to squeeze his hand, but again found it difficult for her brain to get the message to her fingers— finally, after what seemed like a few minutes at the very least, she was successful and held onto his hand for dear life.

"You're awake." His voice raspy with sleep, she slowly bobbed her head up and down, fought against the nausea the movement caused. He still held onto her hand with his left, yet lifted his right hand and ran his fingers gently over her forehead, massaging her temple then down her pale cheek.

"How long have you been here?" her throat felt uncomfortably dry and in desperate need of water to sooth it— she tried to cough to clear the scratchiness, but it only seemed to make it worse.

"Shhh, don't speak." He let his finger linger on her parched lips, which prevented her from speaking. "I'll be right back with some water. Okay?" he punctuated the last word with a wonderfully kind look— one she knew she hadn't seen before and tried to nod once more.

He quickly found the payphone and dialled Hotchner's cell, half expecting it to go straight to voice mail. It was, after all, still fairly late.

"Hotchner." He sounded far too alert to have been asleep.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, even though he already had an idea.

"I'm painting. Haley has been wonderful in helping me straighten Elle's apartment." He paused. "We should be done well before she's released." He added the pride evident in his tone. Gideon could hear Haley's voice in the background.

"Well I just thought that I'd give you an update. She's awake and I think she's going to be fine."

"What's the matter then?" Hotchner questioned his colleague, his friend, knowing that there was something else. Gideon was about to answer, but stopped himself before he opened his mouth.

"I have to go. I was just getting her some water. I don't know if she's ready for visitors, but I'm sure that she would appreciate it if the team came by to see her." He said before he rang off and headed towards the nurses' station to get a cup and plastic pitcher of water. The nurse at the station lifted her head as though she sensed his arrival.

"Is there something that I can assist you with?" she inquired politely enough, despite the fact that he knew that she really didn't wish to be disturbed.

"Just need to get some water for a patient." He replied and she stood and made her way to the mock kitchen that they had at the station. He could hear an ice machine and then the pitcher being filled with cold water.

"Here you go. If you need more water and there isn't anyone available to help you out, there is a kitchen just down the hallways." She placed the pitcher and two cups on the counter in front of him.

"Thank you." He said as he picked everything up and headed back to her room.

He returned to her room and placed the pitcher and cups on the bed table and carefully poured some water into the cups. Elle still felt too weak and couldn't hold the cup on her own, so he found a straw and held it for her to slowly sip some water.

"Thanks Gideon." She licked her lips and let the corners turn up in a weak smile. She felt like crap and was upset that he had seen her at her absolute worse.

"I just got off the phone with Hotch, wanted to let him know how you were. Actually, everyone wants to be kept in the loop." She stared at him for a moment, in thought. As if he knew what she had been thinking, "yes we took turns standing guard, if you will."

"Did you catch the bastard that did this to me?" she inquired as she tried to reach out towards the water, but the pain in her chest prevented her. He picked up on the cue and helped her once more.

"There's a bit of a story that goes along with that." He replied as she made a quick gesture and he placed the cup back on the table. "At first we didn't even know that anything had happened to you until the unsub contacted us on your extension."

"I'm sorry?" she looked puzzled.

"He had taken your identification and gun with him. Thank goodness that you managed to call 911 before you passed out and they got to you in time. That's really all that matters." He brushed her hair away from her eyes and she grabbed a hold of his wrist and then held his hand. She shook her head.

"I messed everything up. If I hadn't gotten shot, we would have caught him and solved the puzzle and."

"Elle." He cut her off. "J.J. and Morgan were on their way to Boston following a hunch, which Reid went to Las Vegas and brought his mother to Quantico. Hotch and I came here as soon as we heard. We thought we had lost you. I'm so sorry." He murmured in her ear before straightening. She stared up at him, his handsome features etched with concern and worry, mixed with guilt.

"Why are you sorry?" she tilted her head and her hair retuned to its place in her eyes. Feeling a bit stronger, she quickly moved it away and failed to hide a yawn.

"If I hadn't had that press conference held, you wouldn't have been brought her near death." He stated. There was something very different about his tone.

"Ja— Gideon, none of this is your fault. You couldn't have known." Starting to feel tired she closes her eyes for a moment.

"Get some rest; I'll be back in a little while."

"Please don't leave me alone." She protested in a small voice. He sat himself back in the chair and took her hand once more.

"I'll stay."

"Thank you." She replied and he sighed and watched as her eyes close and her breathing became steady once more.

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Regarding that thing known as a disclaimer... That can be located in the first chapter.

Thank you for your patients, I'm sorry I've taken so long to post... I don't believe that this chapter holds any actual SPOILERS per se, rather inference as to how Garner knew that Elle had been sent home. Once again, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. I'm actually in the process of 'editing' (shudders) the fifth chapter and have practically written the sixth chapter in my head (I have yet to actually commit any of it to paper as yet), so I should have the story complete soon (Although minus the angsty bits, I've been having a good time with it... I'll see).

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Pull Me Through: Part IV

No one ever feels comfortable going thought another's belongings. However, that's what Haley found herself up to her elbows in— Elle's refrigerator, going through items that were either expired or on their way to expiring and those that were tightly covered in tinfoil that would quickly become science experiments if left. All the while jotting down the items that would need to be purchased once they knew Elle would be released from the hospital. Despite some of the odd odours, her stomach growled in hunger and she glanced at the time. It may have been rather late in the evening and they still had a lot of work ahead of them, so she opened the basket that she had put together with a few things for them to snack on while they worked— cheese and crackers as well as some chips, dip and a can of lemon aid that she was glad had thawed. After getting a plate, she arranged the crackers along with the cheese and mixed the lemon aid. Nearly ready to return to the living room, she stopped herself and grabbed a few sheets of paper towels. As she walked into the living room, she caught Hotchner's voice in the hallow room, as he spoke on his cell phone. Assuming it to be work related, she waited until it was quiet.

The guilt that had blanketed him in darkness slowly began to lift when he heard Gideon's elation that Elle was going to pull through her ordeal. However, he knew as well as Gideon that was only half of the equation, the second was the emotional aspect and that would be a completely different issue to be dealt with all together. He snapped the phone closed, honestly now knowing how to react to the news, to laugh in relief or to cry as he had just been wound so tightly, he thought he might snap. With a loud sigh, he stood in the middle of the room as if inspecting their work and didn't notice when Haley entered with the tray. Putting the tray on a nearby tarp covered table, she placed herself beside him and gently placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Aaron?" her voice was soft in his ear and held a kindness that always warmed him. He felt incredibly lucky to have her in his life, yet at the same time, couldn't help but feel as though he were somehow taking advantage of her, yanking her down with him— into the dark world he had become part of. "Honey, are you all right?" she kissed his cheek sweetly and took his hand in hers then led him towards the table. "I thought we needed a break." She added as they sat on the floor.

"Thank you." He smiled slightly and she beamed, happy to see him perk up a bit. "That was Gideon. He said that Elle will make a full recovery." He reached out and picked up the tall glass of cold lemon aid, the ice clinking against the plastic as it bobbed in the cold beverage.

"That's wonderful news!" she grinned happily, her smile like a ray of sunshine. He watched her as she bite into a cracker and chewed in thought.

"What is it?" he inquired.

"We still have so much to do before she comes home." She looked around and he nodded his agreement, then reached out and took her hand in his, and gently squeezed it. "I'm so glad that the worst is over." She said, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "Oh, before I forget Morgan called and said that he'd be by to help you with the flooring. He has a friend that will give us a dead on the broadloom." She seemed excited that they would be finished long before Elle's release. "And Spencer is working on a painting? I think he said it's a welcome home gift. Uh, Garcia and J.J. are planning an intimate gathering as well."

"Elle will be exhausted by all the attention." He reached out and placed an arm around her shoulders, which in turn she responded by scooting into his embrace and tilted her head to watch him for a moment.

"It's so good to see you smile again." She caressed his cheek gently and kissed him once more. He didn't have to answer, only tightened his embrace, which made her feel safe and secure. They stayed like that for quite some time, just taking everything in.

Regardless of the fact that Gideon had told him that she would be okay, he sat at his desk, his usually strong shoulders, slumped as he still bore a tremendous amount of guilt. He knew that assigning blame was the worst thing he could do— especially when he thought of the situation as being all but avoidable. Had he not sent Elle home in the first place— they had Haley and his little one taken to a hotel until they were sure that they weren't being targeted by Garner. Why hadn't he had her sleep on a cot or on the small sofa where she was, he stopped himself in thought. What's done is done, all we can do is move forward— there's just something that doesn't make any sense. A fact he had been sure lay just beyond their grasp, one that was right in front of them one that was slowly revealing itself from the shadows. The simple reality was that Garner knew that Elle was sent home. How could he have known that without someone contacting him? He wondered and thought for a moment. A gentle tap on the metal doorframe brought him from his reverie and his head snapped up. Morgan stood in the doorframe, casually leaning against it and tilted his head.

"You look about a million miles away." He stated as he entered the office. Hotchner couldn't let the thought go.

"I was just thinking and this could be just another wild goose chase, or guess." He paused. "Garner knew I sent Elle home. How else would he have been conveniently waiting for her?" Morgan nodded as he followed Hotchner's logic.

"Question is, how? The fact essentially dictates that with the press conference, he would be brought out from the rock he had been hiding under."

"Gideon was spot on with that." Hotchner agreed. "However, the person responsible was right in front of us all along."

"You're not suggesting that someone tipped him off are you?" Morgan's eyes grew wide at the implication of someone betraying their team.

"Anderson!" they exclaimed and each rolled his eyes. Hotchner sprang to his feet and headed out of his office with Morgan close on his heels. "That bastard!" he hissed as he turned another corner that ran into another unit section.

"Calm down Hotch, you have to maintain your cool exterior." He managed to keep up.

"It's a darn good thing Gideon isn't here. I don't even want to know what he'd do to him." Morgan only nodded his agreement, he opened another set of glass doors for them and they shot down another corridor. Both could feel the burn of eyes staring at them, as if they were invading their territory— neither cared, nor let that break their stride. As they approached Anderson, who was sitting at his desk talking with another agent, that agent indicating that they were there and he lifted his head in greeting.

"Agent Anderson, may we have a word with you?" he maintained his façade as the agent nodded his ascent and turned towards his superior for confirmation. He glanced quickly towards a vacant conference room that they could use to speak in private. The three men entered the room and Morgan closed the door behind them. "I have been going over this scenario for a couple of days now. Today, I thought that I ought to share the idea with Agent Morgan and we have both reached the same conclusion." He paused in thought observing his subject— he carefully gauged Anderson's response, his official, trained body language as they sat at the large table.

"Don't play us." Morgan sneered as he stood and made sure to stand at his full height. He then planted himself besides Anderson and placed his hands on the tabletop. Anderson stole sideway glances and then returned his stone, hard gaze towards Hotchner.

"Are you implying something Agent Hotchner?" he inquired as he rested his folded hands on the table and leaned towards the profiler.

"I find it highly coincidental that Garner knew that Elle had been sent home. The only logical explanation is that someone tipped him off. Now I realise that you have already written and signed your official statement, but tell me. Why did you lie? Why didn't you stay with her?" he raised his voice slightly. Anderson looked down at his hands for a moment.

"No disrespect sir, but I was not instructed to do so. My instructions were to take Agent Greenaway home, which I did and then returned here." He replied in what Hotchner read as a well-rehearsed reply.

"So basically, what you're saying is that Agent Greenaway's apartment had been cleared prior to you leaving the premises?" he nodded, a small shift in his eyes. "You knew very well that Garner had our addresses, and yet you didn't escort Agent Greenaway up to her apartment and check to be sure that it was secure."

"Correct. She said that she was fine." His eyes shifted once more to the left.

"Hotch; he's just saying everything you want him to say." Morgan interjected.

"So that would mean that you made a phone call on your way to her apartment." Hotchner took a deep breath to keep himself in check. Anderson shook his head.

"Buddy, you better pray that when I call Garcia for you cell phone records you didn't." Morgan snarls tapping her number on his cell and turning away from them to get the needed information.

"Unlisted number," she paused. He could hear the frantic typing. "Wait a minute. Got it." She said triumphantly.

"I owe you more than one you know?" his smile evident in his tone.

"Better watch how I collect." She replied and he closed his cell phone. Hotchner's expression was all he needed.

"Well, it looks to us like you're an accomplice in the attempted murder of Federal Agent Elle Greenaway." Morgan placed himself behind Anderson.

"It wasn't like that. She wasn't supposed to get hurt." That was the confession Morgan needed. He grabbed Anderson by the arm and yanked him to his feet, with little care as to how gently or roughly he handled him. Anderson attempted to scuffle out of Morgan's grip and should have known better than to challenge the hand to hand expert— Morgan quickly subdued him and twisted his arm sharply for good measure.

"You have more nerve then I've seen in an unsub." Morgan spat angrily. "Betraying a fellow agent? What the hell is wrong with you?" Hotchner led them out of the conference room and down the hall towards the elevators.

"Did he pay you to betray one of your own?" Hotchner inquired calmly as they stepped onto the lift. No answer came from Anderson.

"I seriously hope it was worth it." Morgan pushed him down the hallway, quasi-parading him past the other agents, a point that would not soon be forgotten by the soon to be ex-agent and charged accessory. "You're very lucky she's going to pull through, or else I might have been inclined not to have been this light with you." He added, regaining his professional exterior as they entered the office of their Special Agent-In-Charge, where the fate of the betrayer would be decided.

To Be Continued...


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: The disclaimer has been attached to the first chapter. Just a quick note of apology for taking so long in posting this chapter as its actually very much attached to the following and had to properly set it up, or else it would suffer. At this particular point, I don't believe there are any outright Spoilers, except if for some reason the reader has missed the Fisher King parts one and two (I do use the scene of the shooting in this chapter in a dream sequence).

Pull Me Through: Part V

Robust drops of rain fell in between the gentle mist, sobering the team's mood as they boarded the plane home. Gideon wondered if it were at all possible for him to be more exhausted then the rest of them— primarily because he felt himself constantly pulled in so many directions; his body and mind on the case, yet his heart and soul were back in Virginia with Elle. Home, he mused happily as he tucked himself into his seat in preparation of catching a few hours sleep. He thought of how wonderfully melodic the word was in his mind; how it caressed his senses and easily soothed his tattered spirit. Hotchner plunked himself into a seat not too far away from the team, yet far enough to gain perspective. Hardly the intension, he found his mind drifting off towards Anderson and his hunch. He sighed wondering, hoping that the Special Agent-In-Charge would be sure that Anderson received the proper punishment that befitted his 'crime'— were he still a District Attorney, he would have taken a great deal of pleasure in ensuring that Anderson's life on the inside was well beyond a living hell. He closed his eyes for a moment, once calmed by the steadiness of the jets engines.

Everyone appeared comfortable in their place, Reid sprawled his tall, lanky form on the sofa and closed his eyes— J.J., returned from the small kitchen with two mugs, one of hot tea and the other Morgan's coffee and placed them on the table and quickly grabbed the pile of files from Reid. She searched and finally found a blanket to cover with, then returned to her seat across from Morgan, who was in the process of removing the ear buds and placed them on the table between them along with his iPod.

"It really isn't the same, is it?" she said softly, her eyes grew dark and her facial expression mirrored his sentiment. "Every time I catch myself looking at Gideon, I half expect to see Elle not far away." She sipped her tea, placed the mug back on the table and absently toyed with the string that hung over the edge of the mug. He tilted his head in thought and glanced around the plane.

"I know what you mean." He kept his voice low so he didn't disturb those who were sleeping— not realising that Hotchner wasn't really sleeping. "The next thing you know is Elle's on stress leave for however long the bureau's psychologist thinks it will take for her to fully recover.' He sighed and glanced over at Hotchner, who still had his eyes closed. "It isn't just us that this has adversely affected." Morgan paused and turned his gaze towards Gideon, who appeared to be asleep— a fitful slumber, slumped in the leather seat, yet asleep nonetheless.

"I know." She replied as she followed his gaze. "I'm probably the last to have figured it out and only because of the countless signs. If there hadn't been any, I would never have imagined them." She leaned towards Morgan. "Yet somehow I doubt that either of them saw it coming." A warm smile played with the corners of her lightly glossed lips.

"It's funny how there are times when you don't see what's right in front of you."

"Sometimes it's hard to see when you're on the inside and it takes nearly losing whatever it is all together to finally see." She finished his thought and both sipped their beverages— both wondered how long it would take for the couple to acknowledge their feelings, or if they ever would. "Keep in mind that when they do release her, she'll probably need to have someone with her; at least for a couple of days." J.J. thought out loud for a moment. Morgan nodded as he followed her reasoning. A grin captured his lips.

"I see where you're going with this. Is this you're way of thanking him for nudging Reid your way— which, by the way, looks to me to be going well." He looked over at Reid who tossed in his sleep. She sat back in her seat with an innocent look in response. "Certain matters cannot be forced you know? No matter how obvious they appear to everyone around them. J.J., let nature take her course— all we can do is conveniently be unavailable when the time comes." Her jaw nearly dropped in shock at his suggestion.

"Derek Morgan, I like the way you think." She winked at him and with a sigh and let her head rest against the seats back and closed her eyes. Morgan picked up his iPod and once again settled himself, and promptly fell asleep. Hotchner hadn't intentionally overheard their conversation, it had; however, been difficult not to— he managed to suppress his chuckle and allowed himself to be lulled into sleeps darkness.

* * *

She fought to keep her eyes open when she closed the door behind with a click and let her bags fall to the floor beside the door. In one very smooth, yet swift, routine move— she shrugged out of her holster and placed it along with her gun on the table in front of the window seat. A loud sigh escaped her as she sat heavily on the sofa and let her head drop into her hands before deciding that the bedroom was too far to walk. Instead, she gently lowered herself onto her side, pressed her face into the pillow, and closed her eyes. It was literally a mere moment before that creepy feeling of being watched washed over her and she attempted to peek through her thick, heavy lashes— only being far too tired to focus, she opted to open her eyes and found herself staring directly up at the barrel of a firearm. 

She felt as though her world shifted from reality to that of slow motion, albeit far slower then she would have liked, she attempted to reason with the man who stood in front of her, dressed head to toe in black, including a black fedora— she would have done anything to prevent him from pulling the trigger. Realising her staling futile, in a foolish moment, she lunged towards him in a mad attempt to grab his weapon, throw him off guard— only she heard the shot and felt the bullet. Starring up at him, unable to blink, unable to speak— the shock etched upon her quickly palling face, she watched him as he carried out his twisted objective. He kneeled down beside her, a wide grin on his face, he reached into the gushing wound and poked about for a bit. Still unable to stop him, still unable to blink, nor turn her head, Elle moaned. He stood and wrote the R, then turned back towards her for more blood. This went on until he had completed his task. He then grabbed her gun, went through her bag and took her identification before leaving her in a pool of blood to die.

I'm so cold, so tired, she thought as she looked down and saw the blood that continued to seep from the wound in a vain attempt to clot the site. It was the strangest thing, but her thought process suddenly shifted. I can't die, not like this. She took shallow, laboured breaths and tried to stand upon wobbly legs that inevitably refused to hold her weight— her head protested just before she went limp. The telephone seemed so far away, yet determination forced her to drag herself across the living room to the only thing she knew might help her, with bloody hands dialled 911, and hoped that someone would help her. Her world then went black.

A sharp gasp cut into the silence of the room as she felt as though she had free fallen and smashed into the ground. Her body was tense, yet at the same time tingled from the vividness of the experience. Quickly, she wiped the sweat from her brow and finally calmed enough for her surroundings to fall into focus. It was just a dream, she took a cleansing breath, sat up and licked her parched lips as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and shoved her feet into her awaiting slippers. I need to walk, I need to feel the sold floor beneath me, I need to know I'm alive; she thought and walked down the hall to the nurses' station.

"You shouldn't be out of bed dear." One of the nurses jumped to her feet and ran round the counter. "We have a call button."

"I needed some water. I really didn't want to bother anyone." Elle looked down when she realised that she should have waited for a moment before getting out of bed, her head felt a bit fuzzy.

"Claire, would you get her some water?" the nurse instructed and Clair returned with a plastic cup of water, while another pushed a chair around the desk and they helped her sit. "Are you all right my dear?" she asked warmly and Clair handed Elle the plastic cup. She took a sip and nodded slowly.

"It was just a nightmare." She replied and took another sip. The nurse put a comforting arm around her slumped shoulders.

"Here, let me help you back to your room." She said and took the cup from Elle's hands. "Claire please take a pitcher of water to Elle's room." Claire smiled and nodded as the other nurse helped Elle to her feet, placed a strong arm around her waist. Elle knew she couldn't argue— she didn't have the voice, the dream had drained her of any energy she had, so she let the nurse help her back into bed without further protest and sipped a little more water.

"Thank you." Elle said with a small smile and the nurse gave her arm a quick squeeze.

"If there's anything that you need, please use the call button." She reminded Elle before heading back to the nurses' station, leaving Elle alone once more— alone with her thoughts. Why is this nightmare haunting me? She wondered as she rearranged herself and closed her eyes in hopes of some sleep.

Still unable to sleep, she twisted and turned in the very uncomfortable bed— she wished she could pace the halls again, yet she contented herself to pacing about her room in order to spare the nursing staff heart attacks. Restlessness, she thought must be a good sign; that I'm going home soon, she smiled to herself while hoping for the best, she sorted herself back in bed and forced her eyes closed.

The team began to filter in and Elle was glad to have the company, anything to keep her mind from going back to the day that landed her in the hospital. She sat on her made bed in her powder blue and white track suit, waiting for J.J. to deal the cards. She tossed a puzzled glare at Morgan, who couldn't control his smirk.

"Hey sweet cheeks, would you care to share with the rest of the class?" Garcia inquired and playfully tapped his arm. He looked down and then at his cards, placed the small blind and pretended that no one had noticed. "Oh I get it." She shook her head and Reid rolled his eyes in response. Hotchner played the big blind and sat back waiting for Elle to act. She glanced at her hand and then once more at Morgan.

"Morgan, you can't just pull a face like that and not tell us." She looked at her cards again and plopped a couple more chips into the pile at the foot of her bed in front of her.

"Okay fine, but I'm so going to get killed." He paused. "Seriously Elle, Gideon said no 'shop talk'". She gave him quite the look and he turned his eyes towards Hotchner, who nodded that it was fine. "You would have died." He laughed as J.J. discarded the top card and turned up the next three. Elle turned her attention towards him and waited for Garcia to place her bet or fold. "Hotch had Anderson floundering big time!" he added and tossed his cards into the discard pile, folding his hand.

"Really?" she cocked a brow. "I would have loved to have been there to see that." A quick pause and she glanced at Hotchner. "If I win, someone has to tell me what I've been missing. No holding back." She sat back to make her point, thankful for the pile of pillows that provided some comfort.

"Elle." Hotchner's tone was rich and while he said no more, had been enough to scold her.

"Who's going to tell him?" she inquired as she plunked a few more chips into the pot, sweetening it for the others. "Besides, I'm perfectly capable of helping you guys on cases you know? Just not in the field." She waited, watched Reid— expecting him to be the first to crack.

"Actually, that's not true." He interjected before Hotchner or Morgan could get a word in edgewise. Good save, Morgan thought. Hotchner finally put up a hand.

"I understand where you're coming from, but we thought it best that you get a chance to make a full recovery." He said simply, Elle nodded and turned back to her hand. Hotchner loosely folded his arms across his chest and watched.

"So what will become of Anderson?" Garcia inquired.

"We have to wait and see; and only because there seems to be quite a bit more than meets the eye." Hotchner replied.

* * *

Gideon stood at the nurses' station patiently awaiting news. The nurse was on the telephone getting some last minute information from a doctor—he didn't know which patient and frankly it didn't matter, unless, of course it was Elle. She hung up the phone and opened a file, quickly skimmed its contents; she then looked up at him. 

"Doctor Nichols says that we can prepare the release forms." She paused and looked down at some notes written in pencil. "However, there is a condition." She looked up at him once more, with sea blue eyes.

"That being?" he placed his arms on the high counter and leaned into them.

"She'll have to have someone with her for a couple of days. Just while she readjusts to her situation, there are quite a few things that she shouldn't do until the doctor sees her once more." She looked down at the chart once more. "I see that she doesn't have any immediate family." Her brows furrow.

"Is it possible for it to be a friend? I'm sure that either myself or another member of the team could step into that role." He sounded hopeful, borderline optimistic.

"I honestly don't see a problem with that. I'll get the paperwork done." She smiled and turned back to the computer.

"Thank you." He said warmly, happy that he had some good news for Elle— he walked to her room with a newfound spring in his step; and a smile that caressed his lips that he wouldn't stop in a million years, which only widened when he heard the voices of his team members being carried down the long corridor. He stood in the door watching them for a moment. Watching as Reid once more won quite a substantial pot. It was almost as if she sensed or felt him, that she was connected with him and knew he was there.

"Gideon!" she exclaimed happily with a bright smile and he went over to greet her, gently hugging her before finding an empty chair and sat. "Tell me that you have some good news." She put her cards down and everyone turned their attention towards him.

"I do have some news." He began and tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile.

"What's the catch?" Morgan tilted his head.

"That she must have someone with her for a couple of days, at least." He sat back in the chair, crossed his left leg over his right and rested his ankle on his knee. Morgan glanced at J.J. quickly then addressed the group.

"I'd volunteer, but my sisters visiting from Connecticut." Morgan frowned, attempting to make it believable. No one; however, noticed Garcia's expression fall slightly at the thought of Morgan taking care of Elle. It wasn't as if she didn't like Elle. Far from it, it was just that she couldn't stop the bubble of jealousy that rose from deep within her core at his being the first to suggest looking after her. She quickly breathed a sigh of relief that no one had looked her way.

"Guys, I couldn't possibly impose on any of you. Besides, from what I hear, you're all off to another case. I'll call home or see if one of my friends can stay with me for a couple of days." She said and just as quickly an unreadable expression worked its way across her face. The memory she had been working so hard to fight, assaulted her mind again— that of her looking up at the barrel of the gun. She couldn't help it, she involuntarily shivered against the memory and her face paled enough for everyone in the room to notice her discomfort. Gideon sprang to his feet and flew to her side.

"What's the matter?" he inquired, sitting on the bed beside her, placing an arm around her shoulders and letting her press herself into him, fitting nicely into the crook of his arm and she enjoyed the warmth of his body against hers.

"I… I can't go home." She said quietly almost like a little girl— scared to death of the monsters under the bed. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs in a protective manner, while she continued to shiver against the proverbial ghost that walked over her grave. The rest of the team took the cue, Reid cleared his throat and they moved to leave Elle and Gideon alone.

"We'll wait out in the hall." J.J. said and they filed out of the room, leaving them to talk, Hotchner closed the door behind and joined them in the hall.

To Be Continued…  
(Please R&R... Thank you)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Disclaimer for all intents and purposes is in the first chapter. Thanks to those who have R&R thus far. Your kind words and suggestions have kept me going (Especially through the dreaded 'editing' process, which seems never ending).  
Nyakattia: Thank you for that comment, I should have put that OOC in the header for the chapter and when I have a moment to do so, I will.

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part VI

Under the circumstances, it wasn't a comfortable silence per se, rather it was Elle allowing herself to fall apart, permitting herself to be held, while breaking— the tears she had miraculously concealed, finally broke free. Her breathing became gasps of emotion and finally she covered her face with her hands, ashamed that she had let her guard down— let her emotions flutter so freely to the surface, winning over her self-control. And then there was Gideon, who had now seen her at her absolute worst— at her most vulnerable. She had to turn away from him— she felt that she had to hide.

"Elle." He whispered soothingly into her ear and she sighed heavily in an attempt to regain her self-control. In doing so, she felt every ounce of pain and anger slowly released her, lifting from her shoulders. She turned into his chest and he let her cry— he felt her hot tears as they seeped through the fabric of his shirt. He let her be human knowing that he now saw a part of her he knew not many, if any were privy to. He gently brushed his lips against her temple and ran a comforting hand up and down her back as he waited for her to calm down. He knew that when one fought tears, they only ended up crying more— a strange reality for the usually strong.

"I'm sorry Jason." Not once had she slipped up and used his first name. Yet his lips curled at how different his name sounded coming from her.

"Elle, everything will be okay. I'll take care of you. I'll keep you safe, if you'll let me." He rested his chin on her head and he felt her head bob up and down. She clung to him, wrapping her fingers in his shirt and cradled her head against his chest, her ear pressed just over his heart. The door opened and Hotchner cleared his throat and closed the distance, planted himself at the foot of the bed.

"I just got off the phone with Haley and she said that you're welcome to stay with us. If you like." He placed his cell phone back into the pocket of his suit jacket. Elle tilted her head with a smile. Gideon didn't protest Hotchner's suggestion— he somehow thought it best for her to make the decision on her own.

"That's so sweet, but I think I may have other arrangements." She unconsciously held onto Gideon's hand. Hotchner glanced quickly towards Gideon and nodded.

"If you like, Reid and I could go over to your apartment and grab a few things to tie you over until you're ready to go home." J.J. piped in, Reid stood beside her with an arm around her waist. She looked down at the track suit she wore and then back at J.J.

"What I wouldn't do for a pair of jeans." Her words accompanied by light laughter.

"Sunshine, do you honestly think we'd let you leave here dressed like THAT?" Garcia beamed and tossed her a hot pink duffle bag. Elle opened the bag and grinned as she pulled out a pair of jeans and a top.

"Thank you so much." Elle felt happy, yet overwhelmed and boarder-line exhausted, while excited to be leaving. In short, an emotional train wreck waiting to derail. Gideon untangled himself from her and grabbed a piece of paper to jot down the addresses— without Elle noticing, he handed one slip to Reid and the other to Morgan with a wink. Elle scurried away with the bag and into the bathroom to change. She emerged and plunked the bag on the bed.

"Gideon?" she beckoned him to her side with a hand gesture.

"Yes?"

"Do you think we could stop for some real food on the way?" she hardly vocalised her request that her stomach growled loudly. He nodded and she collected the few things that she had accumulated during her hospitalisation and placed them into the hot pink duffle bag. Elle's eyes lit up with the nurse's arrival with her discharge papers and an orderly stood behind her with a wheelchair. Reid held out a pen and she accepted it with a grin of victory ready to sign the paperwork.

"Is that necessary?" she inquired staring the chair down wondering how odd a method to freedom.

"It's hospital policy, my dear." The nurse rolled her sea blue eyes and patted Elle's shoulder.

"I'll push." Morgan volunteered happy to be one step closer to having Elle back. Gideon picked up the bag and hung back so that he could whisper the plan to Hotchner, who in turn would relay the message to the rest of the team. However, with their slight change in plans J.J. and Reid might run a bit late.

"I'll try and stall her as long as I can. Phones on vibrate, so give me a call when Reid and J.J. arrive. Okay?"

"No problem." Hotchner replied.

Gideon quickly brought the SUV to the entrance and jumped out to give Elle a hand while Reid placed the bag on the back seat. He made sure to stop at one of his favourite restaurants far enough away from his home to give well wishers time to prepare for Elle's arrival. They enjoyed the atmosphere—enjoyed their time together outside of the usual circumstances. It was a nice table, tucked away in a corner where they perused the menu, ordering deserts and tea. Gideon did a fabulous job in stalling and when his phone indicated that he had a call, he knew it was Hotchner. Perfect timing, he thought as the waitress returned to their table.

"I hope that everything was satisfactory."

"Yes, it was. May I have the cheque please?" Gideon quickly retrieved his wallet and they waited. The waitress left the cheque and cleared the remaining dishes.

Once Gideon turned onto his street, Elle knew that something was up— she recognised the cars parked along the street. Sure, Reid's car would have been there; because he and J.J. were kind enough to get her some clothes that she knew she'd feel like herself in. Yet she caught sight of Morgan's car, and then Hotchner's. How odd, she thought as she followed Gideon up the walkway to his home. Her expression quickly changed once he opened the door.

"Welcome home!" they cheered as Gideon helped Elle out of her jacket. Reid smiled at how priceless her expression was. Too bad I don't have a camera, he mused with his happy grin.

"Thanks guys, you really didn't have to make such a fuss." She blushed and Haley quickly handed Jack to Hotchner, so that she could lead Elle into the brightly decorated living room with the rest of the team following in their wake. It was a nice couple of hours, until Elle felt fatigue grab hold of her and she yawned.

"I think you need some rest." Gideon leaned over and whispered in her ear— all she could manage was a quick nod. Hotchner helped Haley with her jacket and then she picked up a sleeping Jack and cradled him in her arms.

"We'll have to keep in touch." She said with her million watt smile, Elle nodded and they left, Gideon closing the door behind them.

"Oh, I nearly forgot." Reid reached into his coat pocket and took out a small box. "This is from J.J. and I." He watched as she opened the gift. "I know that it isn't much, but we just wanted to let you know that we're always with you."

"Don't be silly." She fingers the small charm within. "It's a lovely gesture." She gave him a quick hug, kissed his cheek sweetly and hugged J.J. "Thank you." She watched as they walked down the driveway and got into Reid's car. What an adorable couple, she thought.

"Sunshine, we'll be seeing you at the BAU soon." Garcia said with a grin and Morgan, always the gentleman, held out her jacket for her to slip her arms in. She winked at Elle and they made their way out. Gideon picked up her bag and directed her up the maple staircase.

"I asked Haley to change the bedding. I think there should be fresh towels in the bath as well." He explained. The décor was not what Elle would have expected, yet Gideon wasn't your average complex man. The room was fair sized, with cream walls, natural hardwood floors, and natural wood furniture that complimented the plaid bedspread and solid fabrics.

"Um Jason, isn't this your bedroom?" Elle watched as he placed her bag on the bed and sat.

"I thought that you would be more comfortable here. Besides, I'm right across the hall if there's anything that you need." He watched her puzzled expression for a moment.

"I think I'm going to grab a quick shower before bed." She sighed and walked over to her bag for a clean night shirt. Thanks a lot J.J.! She mused, pulling out deep navy satin pyjamas. She then pulled out a smaller bag with her toothbrush, hairbrush and other necessities. He stood and ran a comforting hand down her arm.

"Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." He paused at the door before closing it and going downstairs.

Stripped of her clothes, Elle caught a glimpse in the mirror of the gauze pad tapped to her chest. She wanted to pretend that she hadn't seen it, act as if it wasn't there and that this was just a bad dream. Of course that was just magical thinking and she ran her fingers over the gauze— yet she couldn't leave the tape alone, she needed to see what lay beneath. With a deep breath, she pulled the dressing, which came away with ease and she took her time to allow her eyes to focus. A sudden sharp intake of breath resulted in a gasp once her mind caught up to her reflection in the mirror of the scar. I'll never be me again, she thought. The scar began about the width of her index finger under her clavicle and ran at least two inches down, just grazing the top of her right breast. Her face fell, it hadn't healed as well or as quickly as she had hoped— it seemed puckered, slightly pinkish, greatly contrasting against the porcelain skin on her chest— the skin actually appeared, to her, to have been quickly shoved and sewn tightly together.

I shouldn't have removed the gauze, she scolded herself— all thoughts of the events being a terrible nightmare were shattered with the reality that hit her; and hard. She stepped into the shower— carefully washed her body, all the while quietly sobbing. It had been a quick shower and as she dried her body, she was careful to pat the raw skin last. The doctors had been kind enough to send along a how to care package, and she redressed the wound before dressing. She had been sure there were no more tears to shed, yet they still came. Plunking herself on the edge of the bathtub, her head cradled in her hands— her sobs became mere whimpers and still she cried. The gentle tap on the door caused her head to snap up and she frantically wiped at her wet cheeks.

"Elle?" his voice unsure, yet warm and she reached for another tissue. His eyes fell upon the dressing that her top couldn't hide and she suddenly felt very naked in front of him, despite the fact that she wore her pyjamas. "Oh Elle, what am I to do with you?" his eyes reflecting his understanding and she was glad that she didn't have to explain herself, even though she felt as though she should. He kneeled in front of her and rested his hands on her thighs. "I know that you will get through this. You've been through so much in the past." His expression warm, he reached up and wiped at the tears, cupping her cheek gently. "You need some rest." He rose, guided her to stand, then led her back to the bedroom and quickly moved the bag onto the nearby chair. Pulling back the blankets, he eased her into bed, covering her and kissing the top of her head. "Good night."

"Good night." She replied and hung onto his hand for a moment before turning onto her side and tired to close her eyes.

The dream felt so real and her eyes flew open and she clutched at her chest— she sat upright and dropped her head into her hands. This is ridiculous! She thought through the heat of the tears she couldn't stop flowing no matter how hard. Looking up she noticed the light under the door and then saw the shadow before a gentle knock and the turn of the doorknob.

"Elle?" his voice was a horse whisper, thick with sleep. She reached for the switch on the bedside lamp. Concern etched itself on his face, slightly aging him, he sat on the edge of the bed beside her and took her trembling hands within his. "You're a fighter. I know this of you." She sniffled and tried to regain her composure.

"This isn't me." She looked down at her hands in his. "I don't think I'll ever be me again." She looked away briefly. "Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" her voice small and he nodded moving to get the chair. "No stay with me." She patted the empty space beside her on the bed. He moved and arranged himself beside her over the blankets and she scooted into the comfort of the crook of his arm and smiled as the steady beat of his heart lulled her to sleep.

To Be Continued…


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: The disclaimer is in the first chapter. SPOILER I've integrated scenes from P911... You have been warned.

Thanks again to everyone who has taken time out of their busy schedules to read my stories; I hope that they are enjoyable. To those of you who have left comments either public or private, I thank you, as constructive critique is just as helpful as encouragement. I find that conversation can open avenues that you may not be aware of and can bring forth a new writing experience, for which I am greatful.

I am currently working on 'editing' chapters 8 and 9 (which would have been just 8, but ran away from me) and writing the first draft of what looks to be chapters 10 and 11 (I'm trying to keep the chapters shorter to assist with transitions).

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part VII 

Two months had passed since she had nearly experienced death. Two long and incredibly emotionally rough months and with the ever so slowly passing of time, Elle couldn't help but feel that her staying with Gideon was heavily wearing him down. On the plus side, she had been sure to keep her appointments and evaluations with the bureau's onsite psychologist. On the negative side, she only wished that discussing her experience would actually assist her in getting through the nightmares that plagued her, easily replacing the usual dreams that accompany the job. She thought for a moment and realised that what she really wanted was her life back— and yet at the same time, she also realised that the one thing that stood in her way of accomplishing said feat was herself. Yes, she had bested Garner— she was alive, which gave her a second chance, which so many in her situation had been refused. She knew that had she given up that fate too would have befallen her. Elle found it odd, at best how strange a moment of clarity can affect people— as she left Cynthia's office that day she realised it was what she did with that second chance that mattered.

Seeing that Gideon had been away on a case— the first away since she had been released from the hospital, he had been sure to call her to let her know that he would be home in time for dinner; therefore, after her appointment, she stopped at the local market for the ingredients she would need to prepare dinner and she had been sure to clean— even though his house, with only the two of them, hardly bore the 'lived in' look. Elle had nearly completed preparing their meal when Gideon arrived home. Upon opening the door he was met with soft music that appeared to drift though the house on the lightly fragrant air that gently tickled his nose with the perfect marriage of ingredients. Pretending not to have heard his entrance, the key in the lock, the door as it opened and closed behind, the thud of his overnight bag at the foot of their stairs, and the rustle of his jacket as he draped it over the banister— had been easy enough; however, the challenge was to resist the urge to run to the door and greet him. He thought he had managed to sneak in, positioned himself on the threshold and watched as she stirred something on the stove in a medium sauce pan.

"That smells beyond wonderful." He exclaimed and quickly closed the distance between them. She turned quickly turned the switch, lowering the heat and smiled brightly.

"Welcome home Jason!" she exclaimed and quickly kissed him lightly. She stepped back, "dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes." He loved the way she beamed. She untangled herself from his embrace and moved to the set table, adding a few final touches. He knew in an instant that something was different this evening— there was just something in the air; excitement perhaps? He nodded, quickly washed for dinner, and then found a bottle of wine to accompany their meal. Gideon found that he had grown accustomed to actually using his kitchen table instead of plunking himself in the living room in front of the television to catch the news while he ate.

"Was it another tough case?" she inquired as she dressed their plates. He sat at the table and watched her intently. He loved the way she moved, he noted how graceful she was as she sauntered to the table and set one plate in front of him and the other for herself. He nodded and looked at her with a grin.

"It was, but coming home has been something that I've grown to appreciate." He smiled, "thank you." He reached for his glass and she followed suit. "Bon appetite." The soft clink of glasses followed. Her expression changed ever so slightly, darkening as it turned serious.

"Jason, I need to run an idea by you." She placed her fork on her plate and he nodded, gesturing for her to continue. "It's been two months." The words actually felt like a slap, hitting him with far more force then he could ever have imagined.

"You feel that you're ready to go home?" he had, after all seen this conversation coming— he had been well aware of the fact that she could not make progress if she refused to face her demons. "Elle, I completely understand." His expression slightly betraying his words— he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, lightly brushing them against her fingertips.

"It's just that I've been. I feel."

"Don't ever think that." He cut her off with an ever so gentle caress, cupping her chin and she in turn turned into his caress and smiled.

"Thank you." She whispered and once she found her voice, "will you come with me?" she appeared hopeful and with a warm smile, which warmed her heart, he nodded his ascent.

* * *

Elle had long been aware of the simple fact that her nightmares would hang onto her for dear life— if she allowed them. Yet somehow, she hoped that returning home would be the first step in breaking free of the power they appeared to wield over her. Going home would be significant in the sense that it would allow her to rediscover who she was, or who she had become. She stole glances at Gideon as he drove to her flat and wondered what he was thinking, yet couldn't find the words to vocalise her questions. He pulled into a slot and in a swift movement cut the engine. Reality seemed far too overwhelming and yet she knew she needed to be strong. She took a long, deep breath and removed her seatbelt.

"Whenever you're ready Elle— just remember that I'm here for you." He opened his door and got out, she only sighed as she willed herself to open her door. It was so surreal, felt so foreign to her to be outside her flat— outside the place where she once felt safe. She watched the trees as they danced in the wind that pushed and pulled the branches— it was quite the opposite to how she felt inside. She was well aware that she would have be well beyond strong if she wanted to succeed and managed to pull herself together once the door closed behind her with a loud thud. She stood strong and looked up at her flat. Together, she and Gideon walked up the exterior stairs to the door. Elle placed the key into the lock and slowly turned the knob as though she half expected the 'boogieman' to be hiding within. She couldn't stop her mind from working overtime, nor could she stop it from replaying the events of that day in front of her. It was hazy, she saw herself going into the flat, putting her bag on the floor beside the door, removing her holster and sitting on the window seat.

Sensing her discomfort, Gideon gently took her by her shoulders and pressed his lips to her ear.

"Elle, if you can't do this right now. Its okay." His voice soothing in her ear and she let herself rest against him, rest against his solid form— reminding her that she was in the present, a reminder that she was still alive. Her nod was still and slightly mechanical— she reached out and took his hand in hers before taking the first step. "Elle?" he inquired and stood still, watching as she took in her surroundings and taking a mental inventory. Her eyes finally rested upon the wall where Garner had scrolled RULES in her blood; they then fluttered towards the living room where she recalled dragging her near dead body to the telephone.

"But I thought." She held her hand over her mouth.

"Hotchner couldn't leave that for you to return to." Gideon gently slid his hands down her arms then rested them upon her shoulders once more. She covered one of his hands tenderly with her own and sighed loudly as she fought the onset of more tears.

"He did all this?" she turned within his embrace and he bobbed his head, letting her fall into him, press her tear streaked face against his chest and wrap her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to himself, then brushed the hair form her eyes. "It's over. It's finally over." She whispered and he found her words surprisingly calm in his ears. Then she looked up at him and tenderly kissed his cheek.

"Would you like to be alone?"

"I wish I could do that, but not just yet." She thought for a moment. "I really can't stay here. I thought I could, but he took from me the one place that I felt safe." She looked down, avoiding his gaze. "I'm sorry to be such a bother." She added still attempting to avoid making eye contact. He lifted her chin and kissed her forehead. "I think I'll have to look for a new place to live." She sighed as she recalled how happy she had been once upon a time.

"You can stay with me for however long it takes." He keeps his arms around her in an attempt to make her feel safe.

"Thank you. Would you care for some water?" she inquired and led him into the kitchen. She went to the refrigerator and took out two bottles of water, placing them on the counter. "Honestly, I was terrified to come here. I was afraid of the memories held here." She opened her water and took a sip. Gideon leaned against the counter casually.

"Elle, I know that this all so cliché, however, I'm going to ask anyways." He paused and put the bottle onto the counter. "How are you? How is all of this truly affecting you?" he turned his expression beyond kind and gentle as he waited for her answer. She had to look down briefly before lifting her eyes to capture his.

"I thought it was going to be difficult, just not this difficult. I still see what he did to me in my dreams, I looked around and while everything has changed." She paused and bit her lower lip. "I still saw the writing on the wall in my blood, the trail towards the living room, the telephone covered in my blood, and the puddles." She stopped herself, but didn't cry; she knew she had no more tears to shed. At the root, she knew that taking back her home would assist her in moving forward— she just couldn't do it at the moment. He couldn't help himself from reaching out and tenderly running his fingers through her hair, tucking a stray strand back in its place behind her ear. He sighed. "I now realise that I still have a long ways to go. I understand that; however, I know I'm a bit stronger than I was yesterday." She leaned towards him. "Thank you for everything." She kissed his cheek and gave him a warm hug. "It will be a little while before I'm back at work. I'm aiming for a couple of weeks, but Cynthia seems to think it will take a bit longer than that. I realise that you have things to do. Some rest to steal before tomorrow and another case. Don't let me keep you." She tucked her hands in her pockets. He shook his head and grinned.

"You're not. Is there anything that you need before we go home?" he inquired without thinking. She turned around and her eyes were slightly moist, yet not with tears, something else.

"Really?" she sounded content to know that he would keep her safe. "Thank you." She left his side for a moment and disappeared into her bedroom to collect a few things that she had missed. "Dinner." She suddenly blurted out. "I'll have to either go shopping or call for take out."

"Take out is fine." He smiled and she emerged from her bedroom with a bag. He placed an arm around her waist and together they went to his SUV.

* * *

She felt comfortable as she sat in the chair across from Cynthia and actually appeared to be happy to be under evaluation. Cynthia looked down, skimmed her notes and then turned her gaze towards Elle.

"I really don't see any reason to keep you from your team any longer; however, I would suggest non-field work. While you're more then physically capable, I wouldn't want to push your emotional comfort zone as yet." She sounded optimistic and Elle took that as a positive sign.

"Thank goodness! I've had enough sitting at home, pretending to be on stress leave." She blurted with a bright smile.

"Pretending?" Cynthia cocked a brow and shook her head.

"I've kind of been helping the team via Garcia." Elle confessed.

"I see. What exactly did you hope to accomplish by doing that?" she leaned towards Elle.

"I just wanted to feel useful. I couldn't bear the thought of you finally giving me the go ahead and I wasn't in the frame of mind to be of any help." Elle sat back in her seat.

"Our session is almost drawing to an end. I want to do a full evaluation in two weeks time. Keep tabs on those nightmares." She placed her pen on top of the closed file. Elle sat back in her seat.

"I admit those are not entirely gone, however they appear to have loosened their grip on my sleeping hours just long enough for those of a more work related theme. Those I've grown accustomed to dealing with." Elle smiled and stood. "Thanks again, I'll see you in two weeks." She said over her shoulder and closed the door behind. Grateful for an early morning appointment, Elle paused at the elevator. She could press the down button and go home, like she knew she was supposed to— or she could go up to the BAU, which just happened to be only three floors above. Would anyone notice if she slipped in and grabbed a few files from her desk? There would be no doubt that there would be a pile of paperwork that required— nay, begged for her attention. What the hell, she decided, stepped onto the elevator and pressed the button for the seventh floor.

Reid? She thought as the young profiler nearly walked right by her after doing a quick double take.

"Well if it isn't Doctor Reid." He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to face her, his expression brightened.

"Elle, wow!" he exclaimed with a smile happy to see her.

"Nice haircut." She opened the slightly awkward conversation. She never imagined that it would be like this— somehow she thought things would be different. That it would be as though she had never been away.

"Thanks, yeah I like your haircut too." He closed the distance between them, which allowed other agents to walk around them while they talked.

"Is that a boy's regular?" she jested and he absently ran a hand through his hair— probably a nervous habit, but she did note that he wasn't as awkward as he had been before her absence.

"Yeah, it is— do you not like it?" he blushed ever so slightly.

"It's totally you." She smiled and they paused as Hotchner crossed the bullpen, heading directly towards them.

"So, you're, uh. Okay?" his question cut short by Hotchner's arrival.

"I didn't think you were back till next week." She doesn't quite look at him.

"Oh, I um, I got a text message, so." She had, but like the others, she ignored it.

"Then it was a mistake." He said quickly.

"Is there a case?" her eyes met with his firmly and he could see the need to be back reflected in her gaze.

"Not until you're healthy." He stated matter-of-factly, his expression firm.

"Yesterday I found myself looking forward to watching a soap opera." She rolled her eyes.

"Which one?" Reid joked.

"Please, can you put me back to work Hotch?" the need could be heard in her tone. He looked as though he was seriously considering it.

"The doctor hasn't cleared you for the field."

"Please Hotch." She pleaded and he thought he caught a glimpse of a pout on her raspberry tinted lips.

"You need more time." He said in an attempt to hold his ground. More time my ass! She thought, yet managed to contain the thought.

"I've been out for four months. What I need is to go back to work." She looked away and nearly sighed in frustration.

"We're going to Cleveland. Reid's going to the Crimes Against Children Division. Go with him." He handed her a thin file.

"But I can."

"Or go home." He cut her off and headed down the corridor towards Garcia's domain. Great, she thought with a loud sigh and turned her attention towards Reid.

"I'm all yours, Doctor Reid." She quipped and headed to the bullpen with Reid on her heels.

Cases that involved children always got to Gideon, no matter how hard he tried to conceal his emotions. Elle especially felt it when his eyes fell on her— that sentiment mixed with the 'what the hell do you think you're doing' look. A look that made her feel slightly small in his presence. She tried to ignore it; after all, she had only wanted to help— even if that meant disobeying Hotchner's direct orders to stay out of the field. What else could she have done while the counter on the auction ticked away the hours/minutes/seconds/nanoseconds of a young boy's life. It was a happy ending at least, at least that's what she told herself as she sat at her desk and watched Gideon, who stood glued to the spot watching the young boy and his mother interacting for the first time in approximately six years in the conference room.

"Elle, my office when you have a minute." He called and headed down hallway to his office. She waited for a moment before closing the file she had been perusing and Reid's eyebrows shot up.

"Aren't you going to talk to him?" he wove his eyebrows together.

"Yeah, I just want to finish this first." She replied and Morgan looked at her.

"Elle, I know that tone. You're seriously going to get your ear chewed off." Morgan shook his head for emphasis. She sighed and put down the file. "Good luck." He added with a wink. She stood and made her way to Gideon's office. She was; however, stopped by Hotchner.

"You knew you weren't supposed to be out in the field without being cleared by the doctor first." He crossed his arms across his chest and she tilted her herd.

"Is that what this is about?" she gestured towards Gideon's office.

"I'm not sure Elle, maybe." He replied and shook his head in disappointment. "Elle, I know that you want to help, just don't let your objectivity get tainted by the situation." He rested a hand on her shoulder and she nodded her understanding before taking a breath and entering Gideon's office.

"You wanted to see me, sir." She said in her most professional tone. He lifted his head and gestured towards an empty seat in front of his desk.

"I did. What is going through that head of yours?"

"I'm sorry?" she never liked being profiled. "I just wanted to get back. I needed to get back." She replied and rested her elbows on the chairs arms.

"You were not supposed to be in the field until deemed capable by the doctor."

"I made a judgement call. Perhaps not the right one." She looked down, then let her eyes slowly rise to meet his steel gaze.

"You were reckless, which is not you. Trying to use Reid to cover your misjudgement wasn't right either. You should be home Elle. You still need time to heal." She could hear the disappointment in his tone and shrunk a little in her seat.

"Gideon, I can't stand feeling useless." She bit at her lower lip. "Plus it means being away from you." She looked away and then down at her folded hands in her lap. Once more, she knew there was no quick save. He rested his arms on the desk in front of him and leaned into them, tilting his head in wonder and disbelief.

"I nearly lost you once." He said in a low tone. "I know this case wasn't the end of the world or anything, but." He stopped himself and stood.

"You're right. I will make an appointment for an early evaluation. Then I should be back in the field tomorrow." She stood and ran her fingers lightly down his arm, taking hold of his hand for a moment. "I'm okay." She whispered. You may be, but I'm sure as hell not, he thought to himself as he watched her leave.

To Be Continued…


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: The disclaimer has been attached to the first chapter. I also need to add a SPOILER ALERT because I have used some scenes from Aftermath and The Bogieman. So for those of you who have been keeping up with the second season, some of the dialogue will/should be familiar to you. I really have tried to be as accurate as possible, I type fast, but sometimes it doesn't feel fast enough (I was reviewing the episode for the dialogue).

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part VIII 

The feeling that worked its way through the precinct was that of collective disappointment while they watched as William Lee was escorted from the interrogation room. No one vocalised his or her thoughts on the subject, yet they were well aware of what the others were thinking. As she walked down a short hall, Elle's path nearly collided with his and his glance was directed directly towards her, sending a shiver of defeat through her. She cringed with the knowledge that she had screwed up the investigation— she had allowed her personal issues to flutter and break free of the surface that kept them hidden within. She also knew that she should have been honest when asked point blank if she was okay. Of course she had wanted everything to be as it was prior to her leave of absence, yet she thought that pretending, would have her one day believing in her own façade, and in essence would have resulted ridding the streets of another bad guy. Deep within she knew that wasn't the case and could never be sure if she ever would be herself again. However, in her defence, Hotchner and or Gideon should have known that she was hardly ready for the field, especially a case that was so emotionally close to home for her. It was a strange energy between Morgan and herself in combination with his last glance that made her question her team— question herself and her ability; none of which she had done in the past.

"You're letting him walk?" she stated hotly and Morgan shook his head.

"Back off Elle." His warning was calm; his eyes reflected a silent plea.

"You don't know what you've done." She hissed back.

"The only reason he's walking is because you panicked." Hotchner stepped in; his voice as steady as his deep, dark gaze.

"I'm supposed to believe that you've got my back?" she snapped without much thought. She met his gaze with fire in her eyes.

"What are you saying?" he maintained his cool demeanour.

"The last time you sent me home Hotch, you got me shot." Her response had been laced with venom and that alerted Gideon, who had been content to stay back, immediately made his presence known.

"Walk with me. Right now." He growled as he grabbed her arm and led her to a vacant office. "You need to get some air. While you do, uh I want you to think about this job. What you've been through and what you're capable of. You understand me?" There was water in her eyes as she looked away, tilting her head indicating to Gideon that she wanted to say something, yet remained silent. In that moment, he could tell that there was something far deeper going on in her head. Damn it Elle, talk to me; he thought as her gaze finally met his briefly, she then rolled her eyes, pushed past him, and walked out the door in a huff. Reid, who happened to be standing nearby, reached out to comfort her, show her he was there for her— as he had the previous night. She hotly brushed his touch aside and ducked down a corridor that worked its way around the excitement to Detective Maggie Callahan's office and slipped in unseen.

She stood as if frozen in her tracks, thinking. She had wanted to tell Gideon about her arrangement with Detective Callahan, yet on the other hand, she knew better than to involve him or Hotchner for that matter. She and Callahan had to maintain their façade of dislike for one and other. Something that wasn't difficult for her— there was just something that Elle didn't like about the other woman. Callahan sat behind her desk with everything in preparation for Elle's arrival. The wire, the location and the backup ensuring that nothing would be left to chance.

"All we need is his confession." She sat back, staring up at Elle who nodded her accent. "We tried it Gideon's way and look what happened." She added and Elle watched as Callahan's lips curled into a satisfied grin, then turned her attention to the wire before slowly reaching out and running her slender fingers along the device and the microphone before finally picking it up.

"Are you sure that I should be the one doing this?"

"He thinks he's got you. I saw the way he looked at you when he was brought in. He still wants you. Besides, he thinks he still has the power and definitely won't see it coming." The smile morphed into a toothy grin. Right, Elle thought as she lifted her t-shirt high enough to feed the microphone up through towards the high collar where she taped the end. She then clipped the little black pack inside the waistband of her pants. Her jacket would cover any bulges that might be visible otherwise. I really don't know about this, she thought as she carefully headed out of the station armed with the address scribbled on a Post-It note that she shoved into the pocket of her jacket.

"So what happens now?" Do you stay?" Callahan asked as she, Gideon and Hotchner rounded a corner and headed down the hallway towards their respective rooms.

"You have your man. You just have to wait for him to slip up." Hotchner replied; they paused outside his door.

"You said yourself that he has access to information on women for an eight state region." She turned to face them.

"Look, you're a good cop. My money's on you." She nods her thanks as Hotchner pulled out the key card. "Get some rest my friend. Wheels up tomorrow at noon." Gideon headed towards his room, pulling out the key card on his way. Callahan made it appear as though she was following suit, only waited for a moment before leaving her room and heading down to the parking lot to join her team and meet up with Elle.

It was an eerie, starless night as Elle carefully concealed herself within the convenient shadows— she couldn't help but feel like a hunter awaiting her prey. Finally, she thought as she saw Callahan's SUV— she then knew she would be all right and it wasn't long before the powder blue Jeep Liberty pulled into the parking alley that was situated behind a row of houses. She patiently waited, biding her time as he cut the engine, got out of the vehicle, and shoved the keys into his pockets before heading in her direction. Something shimmered as it was caught the moonlight, she thought it might be a firearm— at least that's how it appeared from where she stood, yet she couldn't quite tell. The sound of her footsteps, confident against the pavement, caused him to stop.

"Is this what you do?" she paused and continued to walk towards him. "You wait for them until they get home." Her tone harsh, yet at the same time steady.

"You're not supposed to be here." He replied.

"What? You can't talk to a woman without a gun in your hand? You and I both know what you are— and you're not gonna hurt women anymore." She maintained the upper hand.

"I would never hurt them. You know that. That's why you let me go."

"I didn't let you do anything." She snapped.

"You're very pretty." His statement sounded somewhat distant.

"What did you say to me?"

"Why do you choose to do a job so dangerous?" his gaze firm as though trying to match hers. "You should find a man to take care of you." He added slyly.

"Like you took care of those women?" she kept the conversation going in hopes that this would be what they needed.

"Now you're trying to interrogate me. You know you're not supposed to do that." She found it interesting how knowledgeable he thought he was. Damn it, she thought. I have to get him to confess.

"I'm just here to let you know that I'm not gonna rest until you go away." She didn't quite get in his face to make her point, yet just close enough.

"No, you're here because you want me to say thank you." His slimly smile widened into a toothy grin.

"You're sick." She said more under her breath then anything.

"Really? Because without you I would still be locked up." You should still be locked up and the key thrown away; you sick bastard, she thought.

"I didn't let you walk." Even in her own ears, it sounded as though she were trying to convince herself.

"Thank you. You've made a lot of women very happy." She turned away— yet something within told her to glance over her shoulder. From where she stood it appeared that Lee was reaching for something in his pocket— it was all the justification she needed in the situation and she didn't want to take a chance with her own life.

"Stand down." Callahan instructed her team through their communication, Elle unaware.

"Hey Lee." She said turning around and at the same time, she drew her firearm with the intent to use it. From her vantage point, one of his hands was just under his jacket, his expression one of dare. Daring her to pull the trigger, obviously not thinking that she would and she caught him off guard as the first shot cracked through the quiet; then the second and finally a third and final shot. It felt so surreal, as if time itself stood still around her and she watched as Lee slumped over onto his knees, his hands frantically clutching at his chest in a vain attempt to stop the burning sensation ringing throughout his shocked body, and then finally; he crumpled to the damp pavement in a folded up heap.

As far as Elle had been concerned, this situation bore resemblance to those previously experienced— a split second decision that no doubt in her mind defined the difference as to whether or not she lived. Yet, something grabbed the back of her mind and she found herself second, third, and well beyond forth guessing herself. She had to ensure that her action, rather reaction had indeed been justified and willed herself to inspect the fallen body. Timidly, she approached the body, crouched down alongside it, and reached out to press her fingers along his jugular, which confirmed there was no pulse. I have to know, she thought as she pulled his light jacket aside—immediately confirming her initial assessment of the situation. A loud sigh of relief escaped her lips and she nearly jumped at the hand on her shoulder.

"Callahan!" she exclaimed before composing herself. "He's dead. A lot of good I did." Her voice was flat and it mirrored the expression on her face.

"Elle, I saw him reach for a gun. You did what you had to do." Her smile was warm and she stood with Elle in front of a police cruiser in wait for the inevitable arrival of Hotchner and Gideon as the organised chaos swirled around them.

"I just hope that they understand." Elle said under her breath as Gideon and Hotchner got out of the SUV. Callahan tapped her shoulder then went to meet the agents. The look that caressed Gideon's usually so unreadable features was a mixture of utter shock and disappointment, which felt like a sharp blade running along her heart. It was not only that; she had broken their bond of trust, and thereby extension the trust between her and the team. Strangely enough it was Hotchner's usually readable expression that was stoic, an odd swap, she mused as an officer assisted her with getting into the back seat of the cruiser— the effort of movement suddenly felt foreign and mechanical; almost as though she were in a dreamlike state.

As the cruiser sped through the streets returning to the precinct, Elle had ample time to contemplate her situation. It was self defence, wasn't it? She questioned herself. He had a gun, my gut was correct— had I not shot him, it would be me lying wounded or dead on the pavement. She shuddered at the thought. Going over the prescribed story in her mind, she knew exactly what she was to say and yet at the same time, the whole scenario felt as though a series of half truths had been loosely woven together and possibly would unravel. Self-doubt took over and she wondered if she had simply overreacted as she leaned back and pressed her head into the seats back closing her eyes against the lamp lights harsh glare. The plan had been simple enough; meet with Lee and at most scare him into a confession of his crimes— thereby getting enough for Callahan to charge him. Only something went terribly wrong.

Elle was then escorted into an empty, small interrogation room. As if the actual shooting itself hadn't been enough; having to sit at the table answering their questions, rather than asking them only added salt to the wound. She could sense that Gideon, Hotchner, or both were behind the two-way mirror and that by degree increased the intensity of self-doubt. Why don't they believe me? She pondered as she looked down at her hands for a moment, at least they weren't shaking. Shaking would indicate that she was nervous, or had something to hide. Callahan entered the room with the tape from the wire with a smile that could put Hannibal to shame.

"I told them that it was cut and dried. Self defence, plain and simple." She sounded satisfied with the outcome, even if that meant that their suspect was dead.

"They don't believe that." Elle whispered, defeat in her words. "I saw the looks on their faces." She added knowing that they were there. Callahan took a quick breath, tilted her head and finally sighed.

"Personally, I don't care what they think. He was about to pull a gun on you. You did what you had to do and in doing so, got us what we needed to put that bastard away. He's dead, what does it matter? It's just another piece of scum off the streets." So easy for you to say, Elle wanted to spit back. She let her eyes rest upon the two-way mirror for a moment to let Gideon and Hotchner know that she knew they were lurking behind the glass. Oh what have I done? I've alienated myself from my team, and for what; the assumption that I murdered Lee in cold blood? How will I ever be able to convince them otherwise? The harsh reality of the situation fell down upon her shoulders harder than she could ever have imagined, and an icy cold chill ran through her entire body.

"Sign here and here." Callahan pointed to the places where Elle's signature was necessary. Elle carefully reviewed the report before she slowly picked up the pen and signed the first page. Gideon sighed heavily and turned away from the two-way mirror, pressing his back against it and folding his arms tightly across the expanse of his broad chest. Hotchner ran a hand through his jet black hair and watched as Elle calmly singed the second. Somehow, he had expected her to flinch, yet she did not. Gideon watched his expression as a wave of darkness washed over his features.

The team had waited for Elle to complete her reports at the station; then headed back to the hotel for another night before they would leave the next day— around noon. Even though she had closed her door, she still felt their disapproving gazes upon her; expressions that she wouldn't soon forget. I didn't do anything wrong, she pressed her back against the door, dropped her purse to the floor with a soft thud against the broadloom, shrugged out of her jacket and draped it over the nearby chair. She nearly flung herself across the bed and grabbing a pillow, sobbed as quietly as she could manage so that no one heard. Ideally, no one should have heard her whimpers, but that didn't mean someone couldn't sense them— couldn't miss her dark mood and she slowly lifted her head after the gentle knock at her door. Reid, if that's you, she tried to regain her composure.

"Elle?" she heard the concern in his rich tone and she immediately got up and padded towards the door, rubbing at her face in an attempt to appear as though she was fine. She opened the door and almost smiled when she was greeted by his kind, gentle, warm face, the concern in his tone reflected in his brown eyes.

"Gideon." She said hardly above a whisper and moved aside for him to enter her room.

Mid afternoon finally arrived and the team boarded the plane. Elle smiled to herself as she noticed how close J.J. and Reid seemed to be getting and thought perhaps they would be the lucky ones. Once they were air born the team settled themselves— Gideon moving to sit across from Reid, more than likely for a game of chess to divert his over active mind. Hotchner and Morgan moved to another four seat section with a table between them to discuss their last case and complete their reports. Elle made a cup of tea, grabbed a blanket to drape over her legs and arranged herself on one of the sofas. She opened the report, scanning the contents, going over the crime scene photographs, and signed the various pages that required her signature. There was an odd silence amongst the team— Elle attempted to convince herself that it wasn't about her; instead, she fished through her bag for the extra book she had brought along for the long flight home. However, she hardly managed to get through the chapter, she finally fell into a fitful slumber; her mind still far too active for her drained body to handle.

To Be Continued…


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Disclaimer isn't here. It's in the first chapter. This is the 'second half' of 'chapter' eight (It ran long and I needed to split it into two sections). I suppose this should be the last SPOILER for this piece as I am slowly moving away from the confines of the television show into that (gasp) alternate universe (Somewhat). Therefore, the SPOILER for this piece is that this is Elle's 'final scene on Criminal Minds' (I really hope I did it justice). There's more, so it isn't over yet.

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part IX 

Elle stopped just short of walking into Hotchner's office and waited for him to acknowledge her. He lifted his head.

"I got your message."

"Close the door." He watched as she mechanically closed the door. "This is William Lee's case file. Sit down." She lowered herself into the seat across from him and waited for him to continue. "The bureau has concluded its internal investigation— and they accept your claim that you went to Lee's house to confront him and that you defended yourself when he attacked. As your supervising agent, I've ordered a psychological status report."

"After the bureau has cleared me?" she snapped. "I don't need a shrink Hotch."

"It's up to me to make that assessment."

"You think I'm lying. You know you're not a prosecutor anymore."

"You're the only one who knows what really happened that night. And I think that you really need to be honest with yourself since you've got to live with it for the rest of your life."

"I appreciate your concern, I'm fine." She said unconvincingly.

"Are you?"

"Yeah." Elle nodded for emphasis.

"You're anxious. You're on edge. I've noticed."

"More than Reid or Morgan?"

"Neither of them confronted a suspect and then shot and killed them." he managed to keep his tone even.

"Yeah, because they didn't find themselves in the position that they needed to do so." She pointed out, yet regretted it in an instant when she recalled Reid had shot an un-sub. He got over it; she kept the thought to herself.

"I've been doing this long enough. I know hyper-vigilance when I see it. Your first evaluation is in an hour." He instructed and heard her sigh.

"Not everyone is an un-sub." She quipped.

"Don't be late." He watched her stiffly push herself out of the chair and turned to leave.

"You're the boss." He heard her say under her breath.

One evaluation down, however many more they have planned for me to go, she thought as she climbed into bed. Even though she and Gideon had spoken after she had given and signed her statements, Elle couldn't sleep— the harshness and disappointment in his tone when he had pulled her aside back at the precinct kept her wide awake and staring up at the ceiling. _I want you to think about this job, what you've been through, and what you're capable of. You understand me?_ Of course I understand Gideon, she almost yelled at the empty room as she sat up in bed, drew her knees up towards her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs in a protective manner. Why exactly did I want to become an FBI agent? She tucked her chin in the crevice between her knees. Oh right, I wanted to be a part of something more. I wanted to do something that would actually make a difference— how naïve for me to think that I, merely one individual, could ever accomplish such a goal. In one quick movement, she whisked the blanket away from her body and got out of bed, which inevitably resulted in pacing around her flat.

How simple things had been before I'd been shot, she frowned, her eyebrows furrowed and she drew back the drape— allowing the gentle moonbeam to bask the room in a warm yellow glow. Releasing the drape, she moved through the comfort of darkness to the living room. He's absolutely right, she thought. If I can't trust my team to have my back, then what the hell am I doing? She sighed and picked up her holster, she ran her fingers over the gun wrapped within the leather holder then placed it back on the table. Next, she plucked her bureau identification card off the table and stared at it before tossing it haphazardly back on the table with the firearm. I know what I have to do, she paused in thought and her eyes rested on the telephone she longed to pick up. He needs to know; she reasoned with herself and tried to ignore the tightness of emotion that neatly tangled itself within her chest. She willed herself to pick up the phone, and even brought the receiver to her ear— hearing the dial tone, her finger rested just above the first digit of his telephone number. However, she stopped just short of committing. I can't, she shook her head and held back the tears, for after the previous night, as far as she was concerned, she would shed no more tears.

The next morning, she awoke stretched across the sofa shivering. She rose and quickly headed back to her bedroom and climbed back into bed. I'm not going in today; she brought the blankets up to her chin and stared up at the ceiling. It seemed as though hours passed and still Elle lay within the comfort of her cocoon of blankets even though she was well aware of the fact that she should have readied herself for her evaluation an hour and a half ago. There's little doubt that Hotchner and Gideon are unaware of the situation, she only closed her eyes against the bright sunlight that seeped through the light curtains. Meanwhile, Hotchner had indeed been informed of her not keeping the appointment. He then attempted to contact her— each time the call was transferred to her voice mail. He wondered if Gideon had been made aware of the situation and quickly dashed to his colleague's office. Gideon gestured for him to close the door, which he did and sat himself in the vacant seat. He explained the current situation to the best of his knowledge and ability— all Gideon could do was sit back and listen.

"Doesn't look good." He finally said softly, breaking the long drawn out silence between them, and ran a hand through his cropped hair. Hotchner shook his head and furrowed his thick eyebrows.

"To be honest with you, I know exactly what this looks like." He had to look down and then slowly returned his gaze to Gideon.

"Elle let her emotion get in her way." It seemed simple enough.

"It goes against everything that we stand for."

"So don't you make the same mistake." He paused and leaned towards the other agent, his colleague and friend. "She's innocent until proven guilty." The words no sooner leave Gideon's lips that he hoped they were indeed true.

"I know."

"All right?" Gideon inquired.

"All right."

"I'll go to Texas, you find Elle." Gideon watched as Hotchner made his way out the door. Elle, what have you done? He wondered as he picked up his phone and dialled her number. It rang quite a few times before the answering machine finally picked up the call.

"Elle, it's me. Please call me on my cell, its very important." He cradled the receiver and then headed to a conference room where he met the rest of the team to be briefed on their current case. Hotchner drove to Elle's flat and parked across the street, perfectly positioning himself for an impending pursuit. Elle's heart broke when she heard Gideon's voice. She fought every fibre within her being not to pick up the phone and speak to him— tell him everything that she knew she should have told him the night before last, and yet something within prevented her from doing so, instead she stared at the telephone. With a shake of her head, she picked up her keys, her overnight bag, and her cell phone and closed the door behind her.

Hotchner waited for her to make her move, not knowing if or when she would. He dialled her number as he saw her emerge from her new condo— watched as she tossed the phone into a nearby trash can, got into her deep blue BMW and drove off. He pulled out of his hiding place and followed. His thoughts; however, were interrupted by his cell ringing.

"Hotchner." He sounded calm; he kept the proper space between his car and Elle's.

"Hey Hotch, what's up?" he was surprised by how calm Gideon sounded, even though Hotchner was well aware of the fact that what Gideon was really feeling was a different matter all together.

"I went to her apartment to talk to her, but she was leaving with an overnight bag."

"So she's running?" the surprise and worry was evident in Gideon's voice.

"I don't know. I hope not. I'm following her." He replied and tuned down another street.

"Alright, keep me posted." Gideon snapped his cell closed before rejoining the team. While he followed her, a quote he read somewhere entered his mind and something within it caused him to pause, perhaps in understanding, he was unsure.

We could easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark. The real tragedy in life is when men are afraid of the light. Plato

Elle walked though the fallen leaves that rustled and crunched underfoot, walked around and in between row upon row of headstones until she arrived at Robert Greenaway's. She looked down at the cold, stone representation of the memories of a nine-year-old girl. Daddy, she thought and let her mind wander back to the conversation she had with him while her life hung in the balance. Then again in her many dreams that followed. She recalled his warmth, his strength, his guidance, and thankfully his understanding— yet knowing what she had just experienced, just been through, accused of, would he still be as proud or understanding of her? She would never truly know and it made her wish she had been more honest with her team. Perhaps they would have understood if she had revealed the plan, revealed that she had been working with Callahan. Now, it would appear to them to be a convenient ploy. Especially with Hotchner, the high and mighty, moral, ethical, member of the team. Casting thoughts aside, she sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry dad." Her words sounded like admission in his ears, Hotchner finally let his presence be known. "You've been following me."

"What's going on Elle? I'm listening." She slowly turned to face him.

"Okay, I really wanted to be part of the team." Her tone flat and sounded lifeless in his ears.

"You were."

"But when I needed the team, I was all alone. I was alone in the one place I have the right to feel safe, and that's my home." Her eyes spoke far more than her words ever could and it touched him, but he had to keep perspective. "Just like those women in Ohio who were attacked had the right to feel safe in their home. I'm sorry."

"So that justifies taking the law into your own hands?" he said, she looked away.

"What makes you think that I have?" she inquired returning his hard gaze.

"Because you are here confessing your sins. You know I don't have any evidence and you know how quickly I'd arrest you if I did. So what are we going to do about it?" on one hand, she knew she couldn't answer that question— if she had, it wasn't only her badge on the line; it was whether or not he would believe her.

"I don't know." She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. The fall wind gusted around them and Hotchner removed his jacket and hooked it on her shoulders. "Thanks."

"We can still reschedule your evaluation." He said and put a comforting arm around her. She thought for a moment.

"I think I need a bit more time." She replied calmly.

"That isn't a luxury we have much of."

"I understand." She sighed with a curt nod and they walked back to their respective cars. "How's the case going?" she inquired.

"Gideon's kept me in the loop. As far as I know the un-sub is a young boy."

"Really?" she cocked an eyebrow and slipped his jacket off her shoulders. "Thanks again." She added and got into her car.

"Quantico, when you're ready. I'll be in my office." He said and she nodded, closed the door and started the engine. I hope she shows, he mused and got into his car.

Glad to have another case behind them; Gideon, J.J., Morgan, and Reid board the plane for the flight home. Mentally and emotionally drained, J.J. quickly fell asleep on the sofa—not something that she usually did, but for some reason this case was very different. Gideon tucked himself away from the rest of the team— they all knew where his mind was. Reid and Morgan sat in the four group across from J.J., Reid not wanting to be too far away from her. Morgan had his iPod in his ears as per the norm, but never too loud, only enough to drown out the constant rumble of the jets engines.

"I should have said something." Reid said out of the blue, yet Morgan knew that this stemmed from earlier that day.

"What?" Morgan replied and removed the ear buds, placed the iPod on the table between them and waited. He knew Reid needed to talk.

"To Gideon, to Hotch, any of you guys. I talked to Elle that night and I knew she wasn't right, but." He paused. "Should have told someone." His features dark, reminding Morgan of Hotch.

"Reid, listen to me. Do not do that to yourself. You were just trying to help a friend. You hear me?" Reid silently nodded his ascent. "Don't go there kid, Elle made her own choice. It's on her." again Reid nodded his understanding and swivelled his chair slightly, closed his eyes and hoped that everything would return to normal.

"She hasn't admitted anything?" Gideon inquired quietly, not wanting to upset team further as he had already noticed Reid's reaction.

"No." Hotchner replied as he sat back in his seat behind his desk still covered with paperwork.

"Well you're doing the right thing." Gideon's sigh sounded like defeat and Hotchner knew exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, I know that." He sensed someone at his door and lifted his head. Elle entered quietly, seeing that he was on the telephone and assumed it to be Gideon.

"See you in a few hours."

"Okay." Hotchner hung up and turned his attention towards Elle.

"Gideon?" she knew she didn't have to ask.

"Yeah."

"Tell him I said goodbye." She walked further into his office, for the last time as a member of the BAU and placed her gun, badge, and pass card on his desk. "This is not an admission of guilt." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Well." He pursed his lips.

"You know when I first started this job. The sound of my phone ringing, a call from the bureau I used to get so excited. The blood would just race in my veins—and now that same sound paralyses me. I'm not the same person anymore. That night at Lee's, if I had to do it over again, I wouldn't change a thing." She sounded confident in her decision. Hotchner thought back to his own experience, not just those of injured or fallen colleagues and friends and waited for her answer. She merely sighed.

"I guess that's it. You know, when I first joined the team, I couldn't figure out why you never ever smile. Now I think I'm actually going to miss that." He watched as she turned on her heel and headed to her desk to pack up whatever personal items had been left. He watched her through the open blind as she slung her overnight bag over her shoulder and left the BAU for the last time.

"I miss you too." He whispered to himself and his empty office.

To Be Continued…


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: The disclaimer is in chapter one. Moving back towards Hotchner and his exploration of what really happened on the night in question between Elle and Lee. I'm still 'keeping with the prescribed CM'. Please read and review.

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part X 

There was no way that Hotchner could help feeling torn as he watched Elle walk out of his office for the last time. He actually felt hurt that she had lied to him, lied to the team— yet that thought just as quickly dissipated and the replaced with the fact that he had just lost a bright, very promising member of his team. In essence, he had lost Elle. Lifting his gaze towards the open blinds, he sighed as he watched Elle, who confidently lifted her overnight bag, slung it over her shoulder and walked to the elevators. The whole scene was reminiscent of the countless times they would leave Quantico in a rush against time to catch an un-sub, or assist in solving a case. It was then he recalled how cohesive he and she had worked together, how well and amazingly quickly she had managed to fit herself within the team's existing framework— he then stared at her now empty desk; and Gideon's words finally sunk in, washed themselves over his already dark mood. _She's innocent until proven guilty._

Hadn't Elle's actions been enough evidence? Hotchner thought back to the day Gideon had first uttered the phrase and how he couldn't help but wonder if Gideon had been naïve in his seemingly blind belief that she had been innocent. His eyes swept back to his desk, rested upon her left behind firearm, identification, and pass card— and he began to question himself. With a soft snort, he quickly gathered the discarded items and carefully placed them into a labelled storage box. She will be back for these, he thought, stood, picked up the box and made his way down what now felt a hollow hallway to the locker where the box would be catalogued and its contents done with as needed. It felt incredibly odd that he let his feet guide him back to his office via a different, yet familiar route— one that led him directly through the bullpen and past the group of desks which belonged to his team; Morgan's, Reid's, and Elle's; now void of anything that had made it hers— the only thing that remained was intangible. The only thing she had left behind in her wake had been the memories.

Hotchner paused when he noticed the envelopes that sat on Morgan and Reid's desks— their names neatly written in Elle's elegant penmanship and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. And one for Gideon, he thought— above all, he at the very least was most deserving of an explanation. However, Hotchner had felt that a farewell in person would have been a far more honourable method. He took a breath and took the short stair case two steps at a time and re-entered his office to pack the needed files into his briefcase to look over later that evening at home. It was only for a moment, yet when his fingers brushed against Lee's case file, he stared at the cardboard file and decided that it required further investigation; then placed it on top of the other files. As he left his office he turned out the lights and closed the door, then headed home.

Tendering her resignation wasn't on the top of her list, but somehow Elle had managed the feat of staying strong while leaving the BAU for the last time. Yet at the same time emotions stirred within her that she hadn't thought possible; anger towards her team for not being there for her, fear of what once had made her whole, and emptiness for losing a part of herself that she had thought made her who she was. Have I made the right decision? She pondered at an intersection, watching as a mother and child crossed the wide street. Is it too late? She then turned a corner. I've endeared the first of however many evaluations they wish to put me through, she changed the radio station and let her pride suddenly take over.

"How could Hotchner not believe me!" she huffed as she guided the car into the underground. She entered her flat, removed her shoes, let the bag fall from her shoulder to the marble tiled floor. With a loud sigh, she turned on the lights as she walked into the living room and turned on the radio; the music soothingly fluttered about the otherwise empty space caressing her tattered nerves. On her way back to the kitchen, she paused to check the water for the flowers that proudly stood in the vase given to her by her cousin Sharon— a wonderful reminder of happier times; times when her world actually made sense. It was then that the red flashing light on the answering machine caught her eye and she pressed the play button on her way to the refrigerator in search of something edible for dinner—even though, in truth, she wasn't particularly hungry.

"Hey Elle, it's me again. Call me on my cell." Gideon's voice caught her attention and she seriously considered picking up the telephone to call; yet her independent streak won the fight and instead she popped the leftovers from the previous night into the microwave. Perhaps things could have been different, she mused and turned to set the table as memories of dining with Gideon played in her mind like a film and reminded her how close they had become. Tomorrow morning I will figure out what the rest of my life holds— until then, she raised her glass to the air sealing her internal deal.

It was then that the telephone rang and she immediately felt that it was Gideon on the other end— the team must be back at Quantico by now. I know, I know, she rolled her eyes, I can't hide from him forever; she sighed and quickly picked up the phone before the machine picked up the call.

"Hello?" she inquired nonchalantly, as if she hadn't been expecting his call.

"Elle, I've been trying to get in touch with you." He didn't sound like himself; she picked up on something different in his tone. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Hotch told me that you quit."

"Yes." She lowered her voice and he nearly missed her reply. "Gideon, if my own team doesn't trust me, doesn't believe me when I tell them the truth how do you think that makes me feel?" she had to know, had to question him.

"Well Morgan, Reid, and I trust you." He said simply.

"Hotch thinks that I murdered Lee in cold blood." There was a sharpness that unsettled him.

"Did he accuse you of being untruthful?" he put the ball squarely into her court.

"Come on Gideon! He didn't have to." He heard her sniffle. "It was written all over him; it was on his face, in his eyes and his body language. Jason, we've worked together for a little over a year. Both you and Hotch know my track record— how could you ever think that I would pull the trigger if I didn't feel that my life was in danger?" she took deep settling breath in an attempt to regain her composure. It hit him in that moment that this was the most she had probably ever said about the incident.

"Elle, I need to see you. I know that you're upset and I'm offering you my ear. Honey, I'm here for you." She heard something beyond his usual warmth in his tone, and knew that there was no way that she could ever deny him; yet she couldn't say anymore. "Elle, are you still there?"

"I'm still here." She thought for a moment. "What about desert at a restaurant of your choice?" she suggested with the hope that he would pick up on her hint.

"Sounds like a plan. Do you recall where we had desert on the way to my place after you were released from the hospital?" she heard the smile reflected in his tone, and could picture it on his face.

"Yes." She replied.

"Meet me there in say twenty minutes."

"I'll be there." She cradled the receiver and prepared to meet Gideon.

* * *

It felt so incredible to be home, so good to be spending time with his family— forget about work for a brief moment of pure bliss. After spending some quality time with little Jack, Haley took him upstairs to bathe and get ready for bed, while Hotchner returned to the kitchen and started with removing the dishes from the dishwasher— putting them away and then quickly finished tidying up the kitchen. A wide smile at the result he then moved into the living room and began to pick up the toys that he and Jack had been playing with; putting them into the plastic bin that neatly fit into the closet. With a content sigh, he then returned to the entry, where he had left his briefcase. He really hadn't wanted to ruin a near perfect evening, yet at the back of his mind the Lee case poked him— he needed to know. Settling himself on the sofa, he turned on the lamp, pulled out the file, and began to thumb through its contents. His thick eyebrows shot up here and furrowed there as an abundance of inconsistencies appeared to run rampant throughout the report. His breath caught in his throat as it finally dawned on him that Elle had indeed been truthful.

He read through her recount of the events that lead up to the shooting and while he stood on the other side of the two-way mirror felt emotionless, and yet when he thought back to the expression on her face when he and Gideon arrived on the scene— he quickly realised that it had indeed been one of sheer shock, not an easily faked mask.

"Honey, are you okay?" Haley's soft voice travelled from the bottom of the stairs, and he had been surprised that he hadn't heard her. He lifted his head and turned himself on the sofa to see her. "You seem very distracted." She added, consumed more like it, she thought and made her way to him. She settled herself beside him, sunk into the comfort of the sofa, and snuggled into his side. "If you need to talk?" she paused and tiled her head up towards him then rested her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, then rested his chin upon the spot.

"Something isn't right. I'm just unable to see what it is exactly." He said and slowly exhaled.

"Aaron, I know that I'm not supposed to get involved in the cases that you're working on. However, in this case, perhaps I can help?" it was then she recognised the subject. "Is this about Elle?" she inquired and watched as his features darkened. She had seen that look when he had forgotten about Jack's appointment, and knew in an instant that it was indeed a 'family' issue. "You said yourself that she ran."

"Yes, that's true." They sat in silence for a moment while he seemed to be soaking in the information. Hotchner then leaned forward, placed the open file on the coffee table, and then sat back. "I found her at her father's grave." He sighed heavily. "This doesn't make any sense. If Elle had the back-up that Callahan claims to have been there for her, there was no way that she would have shot Lee." His face suddenly light up. "She wouldn't have had the chance." He tilted his head in thought, the light caught his dark hair and Haley couldn't resist running her delicate fingers through his soft locks as she too thought. She then sat up.

"If this is Lee." She grabbed the television remote and placed it on the coffee table, "and this is Elle." She added and placed his pen in the approximate location where Elle would have theoretically stood. She stopped then reached for the coasters, which she scattered around the 'scene'. Hotchner raised an eyebrow as he followed her setup of the 'scene' and couldn't help but smile.

"Well, the only logical explanation, and this is of a purely tactical point of view, is that the back-up had been instructed to stand down." He paused. "Callahan said that she was in this unmarked car, which is over here."

"Aaron, wouldn't that also mean that she would have had the same vantage point as Elle? And therefore, she would have been able to assemble her story around Elle's?" he nodded.

"From what Elle said that night. Callahan had approached her to go undercover and shake Lee up a bit, possibly into a confession."

"All this after Elle had lost confidence?" she shook her head. "That doesn't seem right."

"Well, I believe having her in the home caused her to relive the experience she had when she was shot, which resulted in her initial over reaction to the situation." He stopped himself. "I knew better than to let her go out into the field undercover. I knew that something was upsetting her. I suppose Callahan had offered her the second chance she thought she had needed to prove herself." He pulled out another sheet from the file. "This is Elle's account. And this." He went through the pages until he located the one he needed, "is Callahan's. This page contains the transcript from the wire.

"Ah, I see." Haley plucked the sheet that contained the conversation between Elle and Lee and quickly skimmed through it. "Well from this alone, it doesn't really appear that he had or hadn't actually confessed to raping those women. To me, it just sounds like Elle trying to get him to talk, you know? See what she could get, if anything, from him. Look here— he says to her thank you, you have made a lot of women very happy. Isn't that as good as a confession?"

"In which case, that means that she didn't go there with the intent to murder him." His expression dropped. "She felt as though we. More to the point, I didn't have her back, yet Callahan's team merely used her to do their dirty work."

"Is there any way that you can prove it?"

"I was one of the best District Attorney's, was I not?" he smiled brightly and she kissed his cheek.

"That you were, and now you're not only the best profiler, but you're also the sexiest." With soft fingers she brushed his hair away from his eyes and kissed him once more. In his moment of Eureka! He nearly jumped.

"I need to see about pulling a few favours from my contacts in Ohio. Go over some of Callahan's other cases and see what's been going on. She had, after all, been a little over confident that Elle would have her badge back before the next morning. How else would she have known, if she hadn't done this before? I need to tell Gideon."

"Honey, it's late. Don't stew about this. Call him in the morning." She sighed and attempted to give him a stern glare.

"I know. You're right. You also know that Gideon will be telling me that he told me so, until the day I get Elle to come back to the BAU." Haley's smile increased in illumination and she kissed him sweetly, he in turn tenderly captured her honey lips with his own.

To Be Continued…


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Heads the first chapter.

A/N: I have to apologise for this taking so long to be posted. Real life, two smaller pieces and a really big piece, have had my attention divided a bit. Somehow I was finally able to get this cleaned up. I hope that it's enjoyable so far... Things seem to be progressing, slowly but surely. As for this story, I am still toying with and attempting to tie up loose ends pertaining to the whole Callahan thing. Quick summary: Hotchner's findings are finally brought to Gideon's attention.

I nearly forgot that this story follows Boogyman and is interwoven within North Mammon. So there are second season spoilers.

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part XI 

In the weeks that followed Elle's resignation, Hotchner found himself in the exact position Gideon had warned him to avoid— that of allowing his emotions to drive his actions with the absence of reason. Originally, Hotchner had wanted to let Gideon in on his hypothesis; however, after discussing it with Haley and still not feeling that he had sufficient evidence to support said hypothesis, he began the process of pulling favours that he had nearly forgotten to obtain as much information on Callahan as humanly possible. He had contacted several individuals whom he had worked with in the past to gather, fax and or courier him any and all particulars on Callahan— he felt oddly like that of a private investigator, engaging in such secretive behaviour. What he would find exactly, he was unsure; yet he hoped that it was the answers he sought. During the hours that he was on the clock; he worked feverishly with the team— their most recent case involved the kidnapping of three teenage girls, in a small football town. His off the clock hours, whenever he was able to steal a moment, were filled with going over the countless files pertaining to Callahan's many and rather impressive accomplishments with a finer than fine toothed comb. The immediate red flag that caught his attention was the large percentage of the suspects that were either convicted, or ended up dead— the latter appeared to him to be far more common.

With a sigh of near exhaustion, he settled himself on his bed, surrounded himself with a handful of files, picked up his bright yellow note pad and rested it on his thigh; he then jotted notes here and there in blue ink. Burying his head in yet another thick file, Hotchner nearly jumped at what should have been an expected knock on his hotel door. He quickly closed the open files and shoved them aside just out of view, stood and straightened his tie, then went to the door.

"Gideon." He said and the seasoned profiler, with his arms full of files, entered the room. "I was." He couldn't look Gideon in the eye.

"You were just in the process of going over the case files again, I suppose." Gideon said, finishing his thought— Hotchner noticed that there was an enthusiasm in his tone that he had felt had been missing over the past few weeks

"Actually I was just getting started." He directed Gideon to the small seating area where the files sat untouched. Gideon looked over the files and then turned his eyes towards Hotchner, his gaze serious.

"No you weren't. Is there something that you would like to discuss? I've noticed that you haven't exactly been yourself lately."

"I've just had a tremendous amount on my mind." He sat and let his fingers brush against one of the files. Gideon joined him and placed his armful of case files on the table between them.

"Is everything okay? Jack and Haley are well I hope."

"Everything is fine at home. I couldn't possibly ask for more." He replied and looked down at his folded hands, his wedding band shimmered as it picked up the soft light from the lamp.

"Hotch, I can tell when something is bothering you. We've worked together for over six years." Gideon paused and sat back in his seat, a tactic Hotchner knew was used to lull an unsuspecting un-sub into a false sense of security before pouncing on them.

"I've just been incredibly busy with something. When I've found the answers, I'll let you know." He blurted, figuring that a half-truth would be sufficient.

"Does this have anything to do with Elle?"

"Why do you ask?"

"It just seems to me that you haven't been yourself since her resignation."

"I never accepted her resignation." He protested almost in a huff.

"Perhaps not, but you didn't do anything at the time to prevent her from walking out the door. Besides Hotch, you can't blame yourself. She made her choice; you didn't make it for her. Don't take that burden on as well."

"No offence Gideon, but with all due respect, you haven't exactly been quite yourself since she tenured her resignation either. Did you receive a letter from Elle as well?" Gideon only sighed loudly with a nod.

"I did," he said slowly, "but I highly doubt it was any different than the letters she left for Morgan, Reid, J.J., and Garcia." He sat back and crossed his right leg over his left, resting his ankle on his knee. He also avoided sharing with Hotchner the nature of the letter in question, or the fact that he and Elle had maintained contact— he had offered to be a reference should she need it, which he had been certain she would not, as her file stood alone and spoke volumes on her behalf.

"Oh, I thought that she would have at least given you an explanation." His eyes shifted towards the window for a moment.

"I know that she's aware that I know." Gideon absently toyed with the corner of a file.

"You didn't come here to talk about Elle." Are you having trouble with something?" Hotchner quickly changed the subject. Gideon sat up in his seat.

"Well you see; the un-sub appears on one level to be incredibly organised— how else would he have been able to successfully achieve his objective; and flawlessly, I might add. I am still having difficulty with the fact that we have not been able to locate any physical evidence leading us to the victims— nor have we been contacted in any way."

"That was why I was beginning to wonder if he was sporadically disorganised, which might be an indication of a first time offender, or perhaps the involvement of a second individual."

"I had seriously considered both possibilities; however, somehow I highly doubt it." Gideon opened one of the files. "I do find it odd, at best that he was so easily able to abduct three teenage girls without any resistance. According to neighbours— there wasn't so much as a peep. A Mrs. Franks said she heard the car pull into the drive, low voices, and some laughter. Nothing out of the ordinary, so she went back to sewing."

"He must have had something up his sleeve that he was able to hold over their heads. Perhaps, they knew him? That could be his advantage."

"Right, maybe he was able to grab one of the girls first and use her as leverage." Gideon removed his thin wire glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "That would be the only logical manner if it were a single individual. Get J.J. to speak with the mothers. See if one of the girls had a boyfriend."

"So you believe that we're looking for one guy?"

"I'm not exactly sure. It is a small town and football is the dominate sport, these girls played soccer. I just have this strange feeling that I can't shake."

"Jason?"

"It's the same feeling that tells me that this case isn't going to end well." He added then closed the file that lay open across his thighs.

"Well other than soccer, the only common denominators we have to work with are."

"I'd say the fact that they were best friends" Gideon stated and made another notation on a piece of paper. "They attended the same classes, they studied together, they always ate lunch together, they practiced together, went to the mall together. It appears that they were inseparable." He paused.

"They come from good families." Hotchner finished Gideon's train of thought; he nodded his agreement and finished jotting a few more notes. "Do you think it's possible that our un-sub has already injected himself into the investigation?"

"It's a small town. Perhaps we've already interviewed him, I'm still not one-hundred percent sure though. In all seriousness, it's far too early to tell. Yet at the same time; time itself is a luxury that is quickly turning itself against us." Gideon began to collect his files and moved to stand.

"Are you leaving all ready?"

"Yeah, it's late and I think I've picked your brain long enough." Gideon paused, "besides, it looks as though I've interrupted something." He added and turned a quick nod towards Hotchner's 'hidden' files. Hotchner shook his head and walked Gideon to the door. "See you in the morning."

"Good night." Hotchner said and closed the door. He moved back to the bed and grabbed his bright yellow writing pad.

It was late, yet Hotchner couldn't stop himself from opening one of the files that had been couriered to him by one of his contacts in Ohio— she had managed to locate quite a bit of information pertaining to Callahan. He was pleasantly surprised by her academy records, tied for top in her class, she also had a plethora of service awards, her stats for number of arrests and subsequent convictions of her suspects was amongst the highest in the state. He thumbed through her academic career; her grades were top notch— it surprised him that she hadn't become a lawyer or an FBI agent. He skimmed the names and locations of all the schools she had attended; once again satisfied that her parents had obviously recognised the fact that she was a bright young girl and an even brighter young woman. He knew everything about her; he felt he couldn't leave anything to chance. He knew he would require a very in depth working profile. He worked long and diligently into the night, going over his notes from the previous night's model; and yet this evening's results were no different. No matter which way he looked at the situation, this road too guided him to the same conclusion.

Having gone over Callahan's cases one last time, he saw the similarities between over half of her cases and the William Lee case. The fact was staring him right in the face. Elle was definitely innocent— and now he had to figure out how to fix the seemingly large mess created by the distrust the situation had inflicted upon them. Damn Callahan, he cursed as he prepared the paperwork to have copies of her Internal Investigation reports sent his way. Once completed, he set them aside to fax the next morning and quickly gathered the files, placed them on the table and worked his way back to the bathroom, where he readied himself for bed. His last thought, as he lay back, letting his head sink into the pillow, was how to get Elle to return to the BAU.

* * *

It would appear that the team had exhausted each and every avenue— they had questioned everyone that they could think of. It's interesting how individuals deal with tense situations. As the minutes ticked into hours, the team knew that time was running out, yet tried to keep the façade of hope. The parents of the teenage girls; however, were not fairing as well and began to bicker amongst themselves, blaming the others for something that was completely out of all of their hands. J.J. had been standing off to the side, observing them as each tossed blame upon the other. 

"Don't let this man beat you this way." She said finally and an odd silence fell around them.

"What do you want us to do?" Gill Seymour inquired as all eyes turned upon J.J.

"Listen to these agents, all right? They came here to help. Let them do that." She sighed.

"We're going to split you up, go over your histories and see if there's a name form your past in common." Hotchner piped in and turned towards Gideon.

"Probably won't be a casual acquaintance. He knows your secrets." In the background, they hear a lone telephone ringing and hear the officer answer. "It may be something you're not even aware of, or you may have forgotten."

"Agent Gideon, its Penelope Garcia from Quantico. She's says it's urgent." The officer, Tome Sikes, interrupts.

"Put her on speaker." Gideon pauses while the call is placed on speakerphone. "Go ahead Garcia."

"Brook Chambers' phone just switched back on." She sounded excited to have re-established some form of contact.

"Tell me you got a trace." Morgan was quick to interject.

"And a location. Downtown North Mammon, within a hundred metres of Main and First."

"That's right outside." Gideon snapped and made a mad dash out of the precinct. Everyone braced themselves, all hoping for the best, yet Gideon knew to also be prepared for the worse. J.J. followed closely behind, and they headed around the corner, while Hotchner had Morgan keep the parents at bay. It is indeed not what they hoped for. What greeted the agents was something out of a film. Two teenage girls, wrapped in woollen blankets; dragging their bare feet, yet trying to rush towards them. Gideon quickly dashed towards them— so did J.J; all the while, they heard the cries of the parents in the background.

"What's going on?" one voice demanded.

"Back up. Come on." They heard another shouting over the question. Hotchner stood somewhere in between so that he could see what was going on, and yet at the same time be available to assist Morgan.

"It's okay. We're with the FBI. Are you all right? Polly, are you hurt?" J.J.'s calm tone soothed the girl, who kept her head covered with the thick blanket. When she finally pulled back the blanket, J.J. nearly gasped at the pale face with dried blood splattered across it.

"She's bleeding." Hotchner comment quietly.

"It's not her blood." The other girl stated in a slightly shocked state and looked up at Gideon.

"Brook, where's Kelly Seymour?" Gideon inquired gently and watched as Polly rested her head on J.J.'s shoulder. They knew in that instant that they were too late and there wasn't anything that could be done for Kelly. Hotchner thought for a moment how such an ironically sick twist had been placed upon the traditional prisoner's dilemma.

On the trip back to Quantico, J.J. sat comfortably in her seat starring long and hard at the photograph that she held between slender fingers. The photo had been taken quite some time ago— when she was in high school and on the soccer team. She smiled to herself as she recalled that school year, how hard she had worked to earn the academic scholarship and winning the state championship had been the icing on the cake— she recalled how happy she had been sharing that moment with her best friends. Lost in thought, she didn't notice when Hotchner approached her.

"Can't sleep?" he inquired quietly and slid into the seat across from her. She let go of the photograph and it landed on the table between them. He picked it up.

"You can't imagine the pressures a small town creates." She stated simply and watched as his dark, thick eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "To play to win, everyone pushing, everyone watching— I hated it."

"Why did you play?" he inquired tilting his head to the side.

"Athletic scholarship was the only way I was getting into collage. It was my only way out. Besides, a thick skin when it comes to pressure is a good thing in this line of work, right?"

"You did exceptional work the last couple of days." He complimented her and she smiled back almost shyly.

"Thank you. It's nice to be noticed." She replied and let her gaze fall upon the table for a moment.

"Yeah, we don't usually; do we?"

"Eh, it's all right. It's not why I do it." She replied.

"Have you ever thought about the classes, becoming a profiler?"

"No, no. I admire what you do, but I like my role. I like being the person the family can turn to; being the voice the poor, over-worked homicide detective can call when he runs out of leads."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I thought everyone wanted to be a profiler.

"Sorry." She said and picked up a stack of folders that sat on the table. He watched her for a moment.

"What's all of that?" his eyebrows shot up.

"New cases. I have to figure out where we're going to next." She replied simply.

"Hey, wait a minute, we're the profilers. I thought we made those decisions."

"Sure you do." She replied with her best poker face and just as quickly broke into a bright smile, which Hotchner couldn't help but find contagious. Returning her smile, she was happy to see that he could be happy and wished that she could see that smile more often.

"All right. Well, I'm going to find someplace to get some sleep."

"Yeah, good luck with that." She replied as he rose.

"Thanks." He said moving towards the front of the plane, while J.J. closed the file and picked up her soccer photo once more before putting it aside.

* * *

Once they arrived back at Quantico, Hotchner hung back and watched as J.J. and Reid headed out talking in hushed tones; with Morgan not far behind. Everyone else had gone for the day, a regular occurrence it would seem, and just as predictable, Gideon remained as per the norm in his office, no doubt preoccupied with something. Hotchner found himself standing on the threshold and taking a moment to observe the older gentleman, who while reading through a report, reached towards the telephone. It became obvious that he felt a presence and paused— turned his attention to Hotchner. 

"You look as though you need to talk." Gideon stated with a quick gesture for him to enter the seemingly cluttered office and have a seat. He sat and placed the file he had been holding on his thighs— all he could think of was how he was going to articulate his thoughts. "This must have something to do with Elle then. I haven't seen you quite like this before. What is it that has you so unhinged?" Hotchner knew that he couldn't stall any longer, so he took a quick breath.

"I was wrong." He stated simply. Simplicity always seemed to be the more comfortable method around Gideon. Gideon sat back in his comfortable, warn leather seat and rested his elbows on the chairs arms.

"Wrong about what exactly?" Gideon prompted. Hotchner's lips formed a tight line.

"Elle." He turned his eyes away and then met Gideon's warm gaze. "She was telling the truth."

"I know." Gideon replied softly, simply and merely tilted his head to the side, an indication for Hotchner to continue.

"You know?" a curt nod was Gideon's response.

"Aaron, how could I not? It's my job to know." He watched as Hotchner's eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.

"And you let me."

"Seek the truth? Of course, its something that you needed to do."

"So what you're saying is that you've known all along. Not just that Elle was telling the truth, but that I was assembling the proof that supported her claim?"

"It was all about the timing." Gideon paused in his thought. "The night of the shooting, the look on Elle's face spoke volumes. No words can describe the absolute shock, and there was fear in her eyes. Later that night, I went to her room to talk to her. I knew that she needed someone to listen— someone to offer her a shoulder. She had indeed killed a man— Hotch it was in self defence. After all, she had thought that she had to make up for messing up our sting. When Callahan presented her with a second chance, she thought she would redeem herself in our eyes."

"If she only knew that she was putting herself in the position of being Callahan's fall guy." Hotchner uttered under his breath and Gideon saw how quickly his facial features softened.

"I did. I tried to explain that to her as well. When you make that kind of choice, there is no way of going back. Elle had a huge weight suddenly placed upon her shoulders— she was just ill prepared for it."

"You could have mentioned all of this to me. That you and Elle spoke; then maybe I would have understood your reaction when I told you she chose to run." He pursed his lips together once more. "Gideon, I'm sorry that I felt as though you believed her story too quickly. I suppose in many ways I'm just as guilty, if not more so than Elle."

"How so?"

"I too let my emotions overtake my reason. These past few weeks, I've spent countless hours digging and pulling in huge favours." He felt slightly foolish. "Here are the results of the fruits of my labour." He picked up the file and placed it on Gideon's desk. Gideon straightened himself in his seat and leaned forward to pick up the file. Opening the file, he quickly skimmed through Hotchner's notes— his eyebrows rose and fell and when he had been through the information, he sat quietly for a long moment.

"So what are you going to do about this?" Gideon inquired as he closed the file. Hotchner seemed to take a while to form the words.

"Attempt to speak to Elle and see if she will return to the BAU." As he made the statement, he realised how difficult a feat that would be.

"Then I'd say you have your work cut out for you." Gideon replied simply with a smile. Hotchner returned his smile and stood.

"See you Monday." He said before heading back to his office for his overnight bag, briefcase, and a few files to tie him over the weekend.

To Be Continued…


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: in the first chapter.

A/N: Some tough decisions have to be made regarding the direction of the story. This lays the groundwork the Elle's possible return to the BAU, which begins the move outside of the box. I'm working on the next segment and hope to have everything wrapped up with a nice big bow soon. Reviews are always helpful— I never feel that I can thank those of you who leave them enough. THANKS so much!

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part XII

Even though Elle had turned in her resignation, she quietly kept in touch with the members of her team— in particular Reid, as Morgan had called to tell her that the younger agent had taken his lack of action as a contributing factor to her downward spiral. She assured him, just as Morgan had attempted the night on the return flight from Texas that none of what transpired in Ohio was his fault. Of course she had to enlighten him as to what had actually occurred that night so that he might understand the situation from her perspective. He had commented that that had perhaps been the reason Gideon didn't appear to be as upset as Morgan said that he had observed him in the past. After their heart-to-heart, Reid began to joint the small group at Morgan's place, when they weren't on a case, to watch a game, eat pizza and every other known junk food, as well as talk. To Elle, it felt as though in many ways she was still part of the team— that despite everything they had forgiven her, her secrecy in Ohio. All of which contributed to her beginning the process of truly letting go. So when invited by Garcia and J.J. to go out for lunch, maybe catch a movie, or shop, she felt excited.

Entering the restaurant, the trio waited for the host to seat them, Garcia chatted about her newest toys with an enthusiasm that Elle was happy to see. Even J.J. appeared to be quietly happy about something.

"So he finally asked you out?" she sipped her ice tea and J.J.'s face turned a lovely shade of pinkish red. She nodded her reply as the waiter returned for their orders. He was fairly tall, a bit on the lanky side, had the same coloured hair as Reid, and shockingly similar body language, except for the fact that the waiter was comfortable in his surroundings.

"Are you lovely ladies ready to order?" he inquired with his notepad and pen poised for their orders. "Perhaps you need some extra time?" as he tilted his head the hair that had been carefully tucked behind his ear became un-tucked, yet he ignored it. Elle glanced at Garcia and J.J. and smiled brightly.

"I think I'll have the grilled chicken salad." She closed her menu and he picked it up.

"Chicken penne looks really good. Oh and if I may, a side of garlic bread please?" J.J. allowed him to take the menu from her.

"I hear the quesadillas here are fabulous." Garcia flashed the young man a toothy grin, flirting with a quick wink.

"Making him work for his tip much?" J.J. joked and returning her smile, he took her menu and made his way to the kitchen.

"I can't help it if my feminine powers can be felt by all males." She quipped lightly. Elle picked up her glass once more and sipped the lemony beverage. "Someone looks as though she's swallowed the canary." Garcia added with a raised eyebrow and stirred her drink.

"It's nothing." Elle replied and managed to keep her straight face. "So what exactly are we shopping for?" she quickly changed the subject, feeling the blush that began to work its way to her cheeks.

"This was just a ruse to get you out of your clothes funk." Elle noted how Garcia's smile lit up her face and she couldn't help but feel happy.

"She's right Elle. You've been wearing those high necked tops far too long." J.J. added and their waiter returned with their orders.

After lunch, they spent the afternoon window shopping and Elle even picked up a few new tops that were reminiscent of her old style, which put J.J. and Garcia at ease. Usually, Elle didn't bother with trying things on, she knew her body and what suited her; however in this case, she thought it best, just to be sure she was ready. In the small room, she marvelled at how the scar had finally began to fade, at home, under the brighter lighting it always felt that the scar was as it had been the first night she uncovered it. When she emerged from the dressing room Garcia whistled and J.J. nodded her approval. She only hoped that she could maintain the positive attitude once she returned home. She had truly enjoyed spending the afternoon with the girls, doing girly things— interestingly enough, she had found it wonderfully refreshing the ease that they were able to talk about anything and everything that didn't have to do with the BAU. Granted, both Garcia and J.J. had wanted to speak to her about her decision— they knew that she would eventually open up to them. Both had quickly agreed prior to their outing not to poke or pry as it's fairly easy to have empathy for one being the subject of such probing. Instead, they resorted to teasing Elle mercilessly about her high collared blouses, which in turn resulted in the inevitable shopping spree.

* * *

Elle had enjoyed her afternoon out with the girls and upon arriving home, went to her bedroom with her bags to look at the items purchased. She opened one bag and laid the contents on the bed, a beautiful silky deep burgundy camisole, a luscious blueberry one as well and a light cream cardigan. Fingering the gold necklace she wore, she thought that she might wear the burgundy camisole with her long charcoal sweater and black jeans— casual and comfortable, just the way she always felt whenever she was with him. A quick glance at the bedside clock caused a cringe, I'm running late, she thought and quickly slipped the silky material over her head and pulled the camisole over her torso, making sure that it slipped underneath the waistband of her jeans. She plucked the sweater from its hanger in the closet and pushed her arms into the sleeves, tuning them up. Her reflection caught her, freezing her in place in front of the full-length mirror and she examined the reflection staring back at her. Her now chin length hair had been straightened for a change, her makeup minimal— just as she liked it, enough to add a natural glow. He would be arriving any minuet and when her eyes fell upon the scar, she couldn't stop the involuntary shudder as it worked its way throughout her body— as much as she felt the afternoon had helped her in moving on, it would always be there to some capacity—an ever so constant reminder of what she had endured. It figures that I don't have time to grab something else, she cursed under her breath as she must have stood in front of the mirror for a good five minutes trying to be firm in her decision. It's Gideon, after all. He's made it perfectly clear that such superficial things don't bother him, yet this is one thing that still bothers me, she shook her head and dashed to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

How strange, she thought. He's never late; she spit toothpaste into the sink and ran the water through the toothbrush— a gentle rap on her door caused her to quickly place it in the holder on the marble countertop. Expecting Gideon, she had left the door unlocked.

"Come on in Gideon, its open." She called and turned towards the towel, dabbing the water from her lips. "I'm just about ready to." She trailed off and froze in her tracks. He stood in the entry, a soft expression on his usually rigid lips. There was an awkward silence between them, tension making it worse as neither knew exactly what to say, Elle only managed to blink a couple of times in disbelief.

"I tried to call." He stammered and then ran a hand through his thick dark straight hair. "Either you weren't here, or you haven't received your messages. I had considered the fact that you could very well be avoiding me all together." He took a sharp breath.

"Hotch." She broke in as she found her voice.

"It's obvious to me that you weren't exactly expecting me. However, I— we need to talk." He said and she gestured towards the living room with her hand. He couldn't help but notice that she wore a v-neck silky camisole under her long charcoal sweater and he was somewhat put to ease that she was getting better, which only made the reason for his sudden arrival easier to get to. He followed her lead into the fair sized living room and took a seat on one of the chairs. Elle sat on the sofa waiting for him to say what he had to say. He paused, nay stalled for as long a moment as he could manage without looking too obvious. He finally took that last breath that he hoped would give him a smidgen of courage. "Somehow I thought that Gideon would have talked some sense into you." He began lightly. She leaned forward that placed her elbows on her thighs. "I just thought that he would have had you change your mind about the BAU."

"We don't talk about the BAU." She looked down at her hands, her slender fingertips pressed firmly against each other. She sighed wistfully at the thought of happier times, a time when she felt her life had meaning.

"Elle, I'm really sorry for doubting you." Her face suddenly lit up. He had spoken the words she had longed to hear ever since that night. The words she had somehow hoped he would have said the night she turned in her effects. She looked down for a moment as if studying the carpet and then turned her gaze back up toward his dark eyes.

"Thank you Hotch." She replied and let the smile she felt tugging at the corner of her lips present itself. "It really means a lot to me that you're here."

"I honestly don't think that you understand." He shook his head, more out of surprise for the ease with which she appeared to accept his apology. "Callahan used you to take the fall so that she could get the credit for plucking another bastard off the street."

"I know. I kind of figured that out when Lee turned around with a gun and no one appeared." She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "At the time I couldn't come to you with the theory; most of it was circumstantial. When I think about it, it was all in the timing, which really sucked. I admit that I wasn't really ready for the filed. I thought that that case would remind me who I was, who I am— yet I panicked and messed the whole thing up. When Callahan approached me with the whole wire with backup idea I thought that I could redeem myself in your eyes. However, you being Hotch, there was no way that I could get myself off the hook you so quickly placed me on."

"Elle, I know I said it before. I have seen hyper vigilance before and with all due respect, at the time you happened to display many of the signs."

"Hotch— all I wanted to do was my job. Get Lee to confess. At the time I reacted, hell the fact my shot was so good still surprises me to this day. Right now I cannot think of what if, because in truth I will never know. Had I not reacted so quickly, it could have been me lying half dead, or dead on the pavement." She shook her head, her chocolate espresso locks bobbed slightly against her chin. "You know as well as anyone on the team that I would never have gone to him with the intent to kill. In fact, I had been assured of the backup, even saw it myself, which now that I think about it was probably just a ruse as well." She sighed heavily.

"You were cleared and indeed innocent, please don't second guess yourself. He had a gun, if you hadn't fired first, you're probably right— he would more than likely taken the shot had you given him half the chance."

"Once again, I suppose we chalk it up to experience, learn from it and slowly move forward." She offered a smile and he nodded.

"Now all you have to do is come back." She sat back and rolled her eyes.

"I knew there had to be a catch." She punctuated her thought with a sharp exhale. "Hotch, I've thought long and hard about it. I honestly can't promise you that I'd ever be a hundred percent."

"Elle, we need you on the team." He held out the file he had with him. "Besides, I never truly accepted your resignation." She sat up, leaned forward and accepted the file. "I'm not saying that you have to answer right now, you can take whatever time you need. I'd love to hear that the ring of your telephone brings you to life once again. If not, I understand— Gideon not so much." His eye twinkled and Elle had to laugh. "I should let you in on this; however, a new agent has been assigned to the team in you absence. Please keep in mind that neither Gideon nor I had anything to do with it and are working to rectify the problem."

"Seriously?" her face suddenly dropped, her eyes seemed to grow dark and she turned in her seat with the knock on her door. "Gideon?" she called.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. Traffic was horrible." He said and closed the door behind before removing his shoes and heading to the living room.

"Gideon?" Hotchner's eyes widened in shock, "well this could prove difficult in getting her back on the team." He added with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, Hotch, I didn't expect to see you until Monday morning at the briefing." Gideon froze— he suddenly felt like he had been caught doing something wrong.

"You're right. I just came by to give Elle the paperwork to rejoin the team."

"Oh really?" he replied as though hearing the idea for the first time. Hotchner stood and made his way towards Elle.

"We'll keep in touch." He said and she nodded, then stood and walked him to the door. "Pease, reconsider. We need you on the team." He added as she closed the door behind him. Locking the door to prevent further interruptions, Elle sighed heavily and pressed her back against the door for support. Gideon rose from the seat he had taken and met her in the foyer.

"Elle?" his voice soft and gentle in her ears. She couldn't say anything, she pushed herself off the door and dropped the file on the hall table and let him catch her in his arms. "It's okay. You don't have to come back if you don't want to. I'm not going to force you."

"I've already been replaced. You don't need me." He gently lifted her chin to look in her eyes.

"I need you." He said simply and kissed her forehead. "You're an amazing asset to the team, you think outside of your prescribed box, and you're incredibly easy on the eyes."

"You never said anything about a new girl."

"We don't talk about work, remember?"

"Right, but something like that is serious." She shook her head.

"Honey, Hotch probably told you that neither of us had anything to do with her joining the team. Hotch is working to have her transferred to another BAU team, and if not BAU— a team she's better suited for. It's that simple. Well, it probably sounds far easier than it is." He paused in thought. "Hoch may have allowed you to walk out of his office that night, but he really couldn't accept your resignation."

"Really?" she cocked a brow and he tried to distract her by lovingly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Really." He took her hand and they went back into the living room. "As for our plans tonight?" he smiled brightly. She grabbed at the top of her long sweater and held it across her chest in a self-conscious manner. Gideon's expression changed and she realised what she had done. "You have nothing to be self-conscious about around me." He placed a comforting hand on her knee. She looked at him for a long moment.

"I thought I had begun to move forward."

"You have. More than you know." He winked at her and stood, figuring that they should go before she changes her mind and changes her outfit. He was enjoying how the soft femininity of silk greatly contrasted with the black jeans.

"What?" she inquired as she picked up her purse from the hall table and they headed out.

"Oh nothing." He grinned mischievously.

To Be Continued…


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I've tucked it in the first chapter.

I'm still working away on the next chapter (first draft). Another issue that I'm working through is the direction of the story, although I am fairly certain that it will eventually write itself. Once again, I would like to thank everyone who has read it thus far and have been so patient while I work through the process of writing, editing, and posting. Unless you have missed the episode Business Unfinished, the dialogue between Elle and Hotchner in the flashback sequence will be familiar.

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Pull Me Through: Part XIII 

Of all the experiences she had in her life— that of uncertainty had to be the oddest. The simple fact that she had achieved what she had worked so hard for— becoming a member of the FBI's BAU. The cards alone were never stacked in her favour. Firstly, the number of applicants who apply to the unit alone was also staggering, and secondly, she was female and out of the thirty members of the BAU— two were woman. Strangely enough, none of that seemed to matter, as any uncertainty of her future had been soothed by the quiet, comforting calmness that spending time with him provided— he had an odd ability to balance her, ground her, all the while allowing her to feel happy within her own skin once more. She set aside earlier thoughts in an attempt to shed reason into the equation; reminding herself that she knew far better than to have invited him up to her flat— had been well aware of the fact that in doing so, the dream would have to end. It was, after all, inevitable. Especially if he happened to stay the night, which with the first rays of morning's light, he would be forced from her bed, pulled away from her, sent out into the unknown and right into the awaiting arms of whatever danger lurked, long thought artfully concealed within the darkness of the places we usually don't think to look. Despite the logic that screamed out at her, they stood in the hallway just outside her door. She held her keys in her hand, while he ever so patiently waited, in fact had managed to pull her into him and pressed himself against her back— content to nuzzle her neck in a playful manner in a wild attempt to distract her— something he had always been exceptionally good at. After two 'failed' attempts, she slipped the key into the awaiting lock with a soft giggle and opened the door.

First to free himself from his bomber jacket, he hung it along with her coat in the nearby closest as she closed and locked the door behind them. She ignored the nagging reason, the last wisps that had lingered in the back of her mind— she smiled contently and allowed herself to be literally swept off her feet.

"Hey! I thought that we had agreed to have tea." She protested in between kisses and trying to catch her breath, her lips brushed against his teeth but neither of them seemed to notice as he continued to ravage her soft lips with his own. Finally lacking sufficient oxygen to think, Elle had to break the kiss— only long enough to fully catch her breath. "Gideon! What has gotten into you?" she looked up into his beautiful contemplative brown eyes and noted how they were accentuated by the dim light in the entryway and she thought sparkled with mischief.

"Nothing dear." He tried to disguise his intent with sugared simplicity and an impish grin. In another attempt to distract her once more, he generously kissed her. In response, she gently pulled back and made a face that only he would ever get away with calling cute; and she made her way to the kitchen to prepare the tea. "Please allow me to assist you." He said coyly and ever so obviously pretended that the kitchen was smaller than it truly was and made every effort to brush himself against her as she danced around him to get the mugs from the cupboard and he retrieved the milk from the refrigerator.

"Excuse me." She whispered as the kettle began its announcement that the water was boiled. He smiled and leaned himself against the counter watching her as she gracefully poured the water over the tea bags in their mugs— adding milk, she stirred while he put the milk away. They then moved into the living room, where they arranged themselves as closely as possible on the sofa; enjoying the soothing silence shared between them. Elle cradled her mug in her hands and gently blew over the rim, attempting to cool the tea enough to sip. She thought for a moment and realised that it had been a good three weeks since Hotchner had barged into her flat with the suggestion and paperwork to have her rejoin the team. She had only seriously thought about it off and on— each time arriving at the same conclusion and felt that it was indeed time to actually discuss it with Gideon. Breaking the silence with sigh to indicate that she needed to talk— needed him to listen. He felt her weight shift as she turned herself within his embrace so that she could face him.

"Jason, I've been thinking." His smiled brightened.

"Is this a good thinking, or?" his eyes began to twinkle and matched his grin. Finding him utterly contagious, she returned his expression and playfully tapped his thigh in a 'what do you think?' manner before turning serious.

"Don't do that! This is serious." She couldn't stop the giggle that then escaped her lips. He always loved how melodic and infectious her moments of happiness were. "Do you and Hotchner still want me back on the team?" she tilted her head in question and lowered her eyelids, watching him from underneath long, thick, full lashes— he leaned towards the table and picked up his mug, took the first sip and bobbed his head yes. "Really Jason— that despite everything that." She looked down at the mug encircled in her hands. He gently took her mug from her and set on the table.

"Look at me Elle. I know that I haven't said it, which has been because of our agreement that the BAU remain the furthest topic of discussion." He looked at his feet for a moment and then looking up at her; he cupped her cheek gently. "Things haven't been the same since your departure." He then dropped his hand towards her shoulder and ran his fingers warmly down her arm, letting his hand rest on her forearm.

"Yes, but what about Emily?" her smile faded slightly.

"What about her? She can easily be transferred to another team. BAU or not, she's a bright young woman with an equally bright future." He paused, "that is if she doesn't get herself killed in the process."

"Impatient is she?"

"Not as much as another agent I recall." He winked. "Besides, it would give me an excuse to see you on a daily basis, not stealing precious moments here and there, in between cases." He then took her hand in his and she mused at how well they folded, merged together; their fingers intertwined so easily and naturally— just as things had become between them. She lifted her eyes and met his, and he took in how her face beamed.

"Gid." She caught herself, "Jason, you do realise that it's still quite a lot to consider. Even if I did return, there's complications galore." She looked down again.

"Well at least you're considering the possibility." He paused and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she leaned into him— fitting nicely into him. He kissed the top of her head and sighed. "Whatever you decide, you'll tell me right?" he felt her nod her ascent. "I just don't want you to think that Hotchner and I are pushing you into something that you're uncomfortable with." She could sense his expression change and turned her head up to look at him. Unable to fully find her voice to even agree to think about his suggestion, she nodded once more— after all, she had only begun to truly realise that time had finally began to take its course and the emotional wounds had slowly begun to heal. The physical scar may never fade completely, but she decided that she wouldn't let it stop her from being herself— doing what she wanted. She gently moved to lean towards the table to pickup her mug and take another sip. Setting it back on the table, she placed her elbows on her thighs and resting her head in her hand, messaged her temples.

"I really hope that you understand that it really isn't that easy." She had found her voice, although her tone was soft, it gently caressed his ears and he couldn't help but tenderly cup her soft cheek with his large hand. She returned her eyes to meet his caring gaze, his face softening, his brown eyes sparkled in the light and in that moment no words were necessary— they reflected the appropriate sentiment. In that moment she somehow knew that no matter what, no matter which road she chose, everything would soon be all right— that somehow everything would return to normal.

"Well then," he took a deep breath and let it out quickly, "keep in mind that you haven't been away that long." There was that spark in his eye again, which touched her heart and she nodded before gently breaking free of his tender caress. Standing, she collected their mugs and went to the kitchen to rinse them out and set them on the countertop. Gideon remained on the sofa and enjoyed how her arms felt wrapped lovingly around his ever-strong shoulders— she kissed the top of his head and rested her chin within the warm, soft crease at the base of his neck.

"And tomorrow is another day. Monday, in fact." She whispered in his ear, the heat of her breath sent a pleasant shiver down his spine,

"I have an early day." He sighed loudly as he stood. "I'll call you when I know what the situation is." He said before stealing another kiss. He grabbed his jacket from the closet and quickly slipped his arms in the sleeves. Elle managed to get a hold of his scarf and playfully draped around his neck— pulling him close for a proper good night kiss.

"Remember to keep yourself in one piece." She whispered and watched him walk down the hall towards the elevator. Returning to the kitchen, she thought for a long moment and found herself carefully considering the pros and cons of returning to the BAU. She had originally thought that Gideon had said what she had needed to hear, yet then wondered if what he was saying held another meaning. She paused at the sink and then opened the dishwasher, adding the mugs, she checked to see that it had enough dishes to run the load through— she measured the correct amount of powder, tipped it into the reservoir, closed it and turned the dial. I have spent a good year and half as a member of a team who has worked tirelessly to rid society of those who prayed upon the most innocent— but the conversation she had had with Hotchner, not six months into her officially joining the team washed over her like a memory long forgotten. She moved to the living room and sat herself in the comfort of her favourite arm chair, the heavy drapes wide open— she looked out at the beautiful purple hued night sky and the bright stars that shimmered. A lone plane cut through the sky and left a ripple in its wake.

--Flashback--

It appeared to Elle that Max Ryan held Morgan, J.J., and Reid captivated by yet another Jason Gideon story. Elle glanced over the rim of her mug and found herself wondering if she would eventually end up like Ryan— retired, slightly bitter, and quite possibly alone. If that was all the job had to offer in the end— if the only satisfaction was that she knew there was one less bad guy out there terrorising the innocent. That wasn't good enough for her. She rested her mug on the knee that she had brought up towards her chest and finally spoke.

"You know he has no one. No family." She stated under her breath, just loud enough for Hotchner, who sat beside her on the sofa with his nose jammed in the file, to hear as she absently played with the string of her tea bag. She let it slowly sink to the bottom of the mug and then pulled it back to the surface, allowing it to bob about and sink to the bottom once more. Hotchner lifted his head from the file.

"Who's that?" he inquired as if he hadn't known— then again, she could in many ways just as easily been speaking of Gideon.

"Ryan. Technically he's retired— but he hasn't seen his kids in years." She pulled the string of the tea bag once more, shifted and tucked her feet underneath herself, before turning to face him.

"Divorce in not uncommon in the BAU." He replied as he sensed where she was leading the conversation. He figured that she had already spent a great deal of the flight home mulling it over in her mind.

"You know the other night when you called—Saturday night." She paused for a moment. "Did you think it was weird that we all were able to just drop everything and go to the office? That we are available to you anytime you call, day or night?"

"No, not really." He replied and cocked his head to the side.

"How do you do it? How do you do this job and have a wife and a baby?" he thought for a moment before answering. It was obvious to her that he wanted to carefully formulate his answer.

"Well," he paused briefly. "When I'm with them, I try and focus a hundred percent of my attention there— and when I'm with you guys, I try and do the same. It's about priorities Elle. It's about setting and keeping them." He replied. It had sounded far too simple an answer in her mind, far too obvious and slightly methodical— one that had no doubt been carefully formulated and very well rehearsed; it felt as though he were still in the process of tying to convince himself.

"I'm just so scared that I'm going to turn into that guy over there. One day look up and see that my life has passed me by while I was chasing monsters." She sighed loudly and pursed her deep berry coloured lips together.

"It's hard. This job will eat you up— if you let it." He said in a firm, yet gentle tone.

"So what do I do?" she inquired and tilted her head— he watched as her espresso hair fell over her shoulder and caught the dim light, showing off the natural red highlights.

"Find a way not to let it." He replied simply and turned to look at her once more as laughter erupted behind her. Following his gaze, she turned her head to catch Gideon red with embarrassment of yet another story.  
--

"Find a way not to let it." She repeated to herself, repeated to the empty room. Her lips curled at the recollection of how happy the job had made her, once upon a time. That once upon a time, she hadn't thought twice about what she did, how it filled a void that always seemed tucked within her, and helped her make sense of herself and her role. She stood and walked to the window. It felt odd to make sense of something, to justify a decision by simply evaluating her relationship with Gideon. She knew that neither of them would become Ryan, so long as they sought the balance between work and living— everything would be all right; eventually. Yet she was also aware of the fact, perhaps all too well, that nothing in this life was ever that simple. There were always various factors that would or could jump into the calm waters, causing ripples in even the most solid of relationships. Elle had already seen that with Hotchner— the stress of the job was probably a contributing factor to Haley's bed rest. How had she handled the now knowing? Elle herself had only been away from the BAU for a good month and a half, all the while maintaining contact with Gideon. It was only recently that they began to explore the potential of a relationship. Not taking anything for granted, she had long known how she had felt about him— and now, lucky for her, she knew how he felt about her. Yet now she slowly began to wonder how her rejoining the team would affect their relationship. Would it be strengthened because of mutual understanding and bindings of trust, or would it be shattered to pieces as she had seen with other agents— a cold chill ran down her spine at the realisation at what was truly at stake. She then wondered if he had already thought it through.

To be continued…


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Disclaimer? What disclaimer? Oh right, the one in the first chapter. Big thanks goes out to those brave souls embarking on this journey with me (I'm working on wrapping it up and feel incredibly bad to those who have only begun… Word count alone is crazy and perhaps a little bit of a deterrent. However, I did try to keep the chapters manageable that way: a) I can keep a head by at least one chapter and b) it helps with remembering where one may have left off in reading (I don't think I could imagine this as one complete chapter… Although on the other hand, this wasn't supposed to be this long. Go figure). There is a conclusion somewhere on the horizon— I'm just not there yet. Please hang in there. I greatly appreciate any and all feedback— sometimes simple 'conversation' creates new ideas and directions. In any case, please enjoy and I hope to have the next chapter up soon!

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Pull Me Through: Part XIV 

With thoughts of the previous evening's conversation in his head, Gideon arrived at Quantico surrounded by an air of satisfaction—a noticeable spring in his step, should anyone have been present to witness it. He was glad to have arrived early enough to have a moment to himself, a moment to savour the tea he had been nursing from the café around the corner from his home and fully appreciate the calm before the inevitable storm— it was Monday morning after all, and case briefings were the norm. He entered his office, managed to shrug out of his jacket and hung it on the coat rack behind his door along with his scarf. Settling himself into his comfortable well aged leather chair behind his desk, he found the only un-occupied space for his paper cup. He thought to call her then; however, the file that rested on top of a pile of books begged for his attention and he suppressed a sigh as he reached out towards it. Opening the familiar flimsy, tan file, he thumbed through the contents in an attempt to quickly familiarise himself with the pending case. It felt strange how the cringe ran down his spine and rested at the bottom of his feet. It was obvious to him that it was far too late for the victims contained within the file he held between worn, callused fingertips. Despite the dark; however, he usually attempted to see the light and hoped that they would be able to assist in the apprehension of the un-sub before that individual struck again.

He tilted back in his seat, crossing his right ankle over his left knee and then placed the open file onto his lap, cradling it slightly. He sensed someone just outside his door, yet said nothing. He continued to view the contents, review the information— she watched as he rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and then ran a hand down his face with his classic heavy, deep in thought sigh. He hadn't known exactly how long she lurked outside his door, only that the gentle brush of delicate knuckles against his metal doorframe wasn't a surprise and he glanced up to greet her, her arms wrapped around a stack of thick files, with a warm smile and a curt nod. She had always been a breath of fresh air, gracefully fluttering about the office— always helpful and incredible kind hearted and genuine. Today, she could sense his happiness bubbling below the surface of seriousness the open file no doubt placed upon his rugged features. She entered his office, her blond hair hung straight around her shoulders— neatly framing her face. She quickly went through the files she held and found the one she wanted.

"Gideon, I thought that you would want to look at this. We've been asked to assist the Virginia Police Department with a case that has taken a rather interesting turn. I've already spoken to Hotch and he agrees that this case is a priority." She placed the file on his desk. "Are you all right?" her eyebrows furrowed and she tilted her head— the hair behind her shoulder fell forward. He closed the file in his lap and looked up at her. "I suppose you've spoken to Elle then?" he nodded slowly, deliberately. "When is she due back?" hope filled her voice.

"I'm not sure." He replied and opened the new case file. His eyebrow shot up, nearly meeting his hairline. "This looks like it would be right up her ally though." She took a deep breath. "If Elle returns, it has to be on her own terms. Right now, it's an issue of trust."

"Oh, I see." She replied, "Hotch wants to meet in the conference room in about ten minutes or so."

"Thanks." He returned his attention to the file, skimming through the contents— already formulating a profile, he grabbed a pen and a nearby pad of paper and began to jot down his thoughts.

The team assembled in the conference room, each ready to hammer out how they would deal with their most recent un-sub. Thorough careful calculation, it was quickly determined that he was well beyond an organised individual. Gideon remained quiet, Hotchner noticing this also held back— it was almost as though Gideon had been evaluating their team, more to the point, evaluating Prentiss and how well she interacted with the team and how well-thought out her input was. J.J. stood at the front, remote control in hand, flipped through the many images while they deconstructed the case. Hotchner took Gideon's silence into consideration while he found himself watching her. From what they knew, she had just under the required field experience, which didn't necessarily hinder her as far as being a member of the team. However, he always read her as appearing far too eager to prove herself, far too eager to prove that she belonged to the team, far too over zealous— and he and Gideon both felt and were all too aware that it was this attitude; that same over zealousness that could potentially get a field agent killed. This last thought over-shadowed her question.

"It local PD believes that they have a suspect. Then why ask for our assistance?" she repeated her inquiry. Hotchner uncrossed his arms before answering.

"Just because all evidence points in one particular direction, it doesn't mean that individual is their suspect. There have been many cases in which judgement has been clouded with the desire to close a case. Tunnel vision can happen to the best of us." He added and glanced over towards Gideon.

"Going over the file, I don't feel strongly enough that this guy, Frank Jewel, is our un-sub. He's far too disorganised and if you happen to have gone through the time-line, he doesn't fit that— nor does he fit into our profile." Prentiss nodded and wrote something on her note pad. Garcia sat quietly, her flamboyant dress the only indication of her presence. She could hardly bring herself to look at the crime scene photographs as Morgan spread them out on the table in front of him.

"There isn't enough in these photographs for us to fully conclude that he is an organised killer. Hell there isn't enough here for me to get an actual feel for his behaviour." His comment broke through the silence and all eyes focused on him. "I'd like to spend a bit of time at the last crime scene. As far as they know, this is the primary crime scene?" J.J. nodded and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear.

"So far as they concluded." She replied and placed the remote on the top of her stack of files that sat on the table. "He's fairly systematic in the placement of his victims. Very meticulous in what he leaves behind, if anything." She added and her expression darkened. Hotchner seemed to pick up on the pattern. "I think we've seen this before." She crossed her arms tightly across her body in what appeared to Gideon an attempt to cease the shudder that probably ran down her spine. "Perhaps this is the work of a copy-cat?"

"Or the police had the wrong guy from the get go." Gideon thought for a moment; newspaper articles and televised broadcasts went through his mind as he sat back in his seat. "We'll meet downstairs in thirty." He lingered while the rest of the team disbursed, finally leaving him alone with Hotchner.

"Jason, are you all right?" he stood firmly in place and Gideon could only sigh and shake his head in response. Hotchner never liked his moments of quiet contemplation— it had never been a good sign.

"Just feeling a little torn— is all. It'll pass." He pushed his chair away from the table and stood. His expression remained unreadable, another bad sign, which worried Hotchner that Gideon was hiding something from him.

"Something isn't right." He added over his shoulder and headed to his office. He didn't have much time to himself; quickly collected a few files and picked up the phone— dialling her number from memory.

"Hello." Her voice immediately brought a smile to his lips.

"Elle, it's me. Listen, it's an at home case." He paused just long enough for her to interrupt him.

"Are you all right?" he didn't answer right away.

"Once this case is over I'll be a lot better." He replied honestly— and you're back on the team, he thought as he stood and pushed the chair back in its place behind the well utilised desk. "I'm not sure how long the case will go, but I'll keep in touch." He added and she heard the abruptness in his tone. Agent Emily Prentiss, deep blue power suit, crisp blouse underneath her well-cut blazer and every strand of hair in place stood at his door. He turned towards her and held up a hand.

"Sure Gideon, no problem. Let me know if you need anything. Talk to you soon."

"I'll call you later tonight." He added in a hushed tone before cradling the phone.

"Sir, I." She stopped herself in mid thought. He moved briskly through his office, grabbed his jacket and indicated her to follow. "I found several cases that mirror this one. I don't know if it helps." She held the obviously well-organised file in her hands and they stepped onto the elevator. They rode down in silence and met with the rest of the team in the parking lot where they divided themselves into two groups and drove to the police station.

Gideon hung back and watched as the team exited the SUVs, headed up towards the precinct chatting about the facts— working though the various scenarios. He watched as Prentiss continued to shove her thoughts and opinions on the motivation of the un-sub, not acting so much as a member of the team, rather it would appear, attempting to lead it— this unsettled him, but he also knew the difficulty in being the 'new kid'. Morgan always had an odd way of initiating the newer members of the team, with Prentiss; however, he was different— it was obvious to Gideon that he had difficulty in warming up to her. Perhaps it was because while she was overly active in the process, she also maintained an odd, closed posture that could easily be misread as uninviting. Hotchner glanced towards the board where J.J. stood working through a few points.

"I definitely have enough for a press conference; however, I'll hold off until we have a definitive working profile. I don't want to jump the gate here."

"Very good, I'm confident that we'll have that shortly." Hotchner replied and the team assembled in a group amongst the officers attending the briefing.

"We are dealing with a possible copy-cat, who has perfected his craft well beyond the original offender." Hotchner began and waited while a few officers scribbled notes and others maintained eye contact— nodding his or her understanding. "The kicker is to re-establish the pattern— that may allow us to head off this un-sub." Hotchner stood straight and gestured for an officer to ask a question.

"We've gone over the case file with a finer than fine toothed comb and haven't been able to head him off." He closed his small spiral notebook.

"What makes you think you'll get him before he strikes again?" another piped in.

"Probably because he hasn't received the attention he craves. He wants recognition for his work. The media hasn't given him nearly as much coverage as David Brown, for example. Brown's crime scene had been splashed across television screens for weeks before he was caught in Georgia. J.J. will be holding a press conference— this will be the beginning of his end." Hotchner crossed his arms across his chest. Prentiss joined him at the front of the room.

"By giving him what he craves, the probability of his making a mistake increases." She stated flatly, "and when he does, we'll be there." She added and the officers disbursed, quietly discussing their rounds and the routes that they would be taking. The sight where the bodies were located was always the same; surely if they had enough undercover, someone would catch him.

Gideon continued to keep back from the investigation, Morgan noticing his lack of passion sat himself in the vacant seat. He leaned in towards the seasoned, usually difficult to read profiler.

"I know that coming from me, it isn't the same. Gideon, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here." He raised a well-groomed brow and sat back. Gideon's gaze didn't change, he finally licked his lips and nodded his thanks and they watched J.J. as she and the lead detective Fuller exited the station, quickly becoming of interest to the media already gathered outside the precinct.

They worked late in the evening, the team going over the crime scene, over each and every significant characteristics of said crime scene— all working very well together. Gideon's cell rang and he dashed out of ear shot before answering— he didn't need to be profiled by a member of his team.

"Gideon." His tone was professional, as it always had been whenever she called him.

"Hi, I guess you're still working on the case." Her voice washed over him, calming his very raw nerves.

"We are. J.J. did the press conference for the dinner hour news. About two and a half hours ago."

"I saw her. Reminds me of the William Winter's case." She sat back on the sofa and twisted the telephone cord deliberately between her fingers.

"That's it!" Gideon exclaimed.

"What?"

"I knew that this case reeked of an old case." He paused and ran a hand through his closely cropped hair and sighed loudly. "The only problem is that we have to wait until this guy makes his move."

"Why not retrace Winter's pattern, see if this un-sub is following it exactly, or deviating." She continued to play with the cord.

"I could kiss you." She heard the smile in his voice, heard the burst of happiness that broke him from his slump.

"Later tonight?" she teased— in response she received a throaty laugh. "Well happy un-sub hunting. If you haven't eaten, drop by my place on your way home. I made your favourite."

"Really?" an eyebrow shot up and he thought for a moment. "I suppose there really isn't much that we can do at the moment. I'll check in with Hotch and I'll call you when I'm on my way. I have to go back to Quantico first to pick up my car." He paced between the trees.

* * *

He arrived at Elle's for a casual eight o'clock dinner— bottle of fine wine in hand. She opened the door and greeted him with a tender kiss before helping him out of his jacket and hanging it in the closet. Soft music played in the background and the scent of beautifully melding spices fragranced the air. They returned to the kitchen where she quickly checked the progress of their meal. Gideon found the wine glasses and the cork screw; poured the aged wine into the glasses and handed one to her. 

"Thank you." She held out her glass and they gently clinked them before taking the first sip. It had never been his intension to break their understanding— that they wouldn't discuss anything pertaining to the BAU, unless it was to discuss her possible return. However, this evening seemed different— Elle seemed different. He hadn't said anything, but silently appreciated the silky camisole with a black open shirt over top— thankfully she hadn't done the buttons up to her chin. She appeared more confident, more comfortable with herself, and happy to open the conversation to their case— possibly sensing his need to talk. She sipped her wine and pondered their situation. In her mind everything pointed in one direction.

"Jason, isn't it the anniversary." She broke their comfortable silence, turning towards him; she placed her wine glass on the counter. "Either this un-sub is the original, or he is celebrating the work of another by carrying on the tradition." She grabbed the spoon and dipped it into the sauce, then scooped some to taste. Holding the spoon out towards him, he leaned into her and let her spoon feed him.

"That's amazing." He smiled brightly, wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into him and began to lightly kiss her jaw line, down towards the base of her graceful neck. She finished preparing their meal and they sat at the table, candles lit, fresh flowers, and more wine. Continuing to discuss the case, they worked through possible reasons; Elle even got up and grabbed a pad of paper to make some notes. She may not have the case file, or the Winter's file, for that matter; however, she did have the ability to help create a far more detailed working profile. Raising her glass to her lips, she tilted her head to the side.

"To catching this copy-cat un-sub." She sighed and they continued their meal; the conversation moving away from the BAU.

"I was wondering when you might be free to join me on a weekend away at my cabin." Gideon's cabin was the one place he felt his happiest and there were very few whom he had ever invited up there— very few he ever shared his whole self with; he had always thought it to be far too revealing. Elle looked up from her plate and just beamed. "I realise that winter may not be the nicest time to go up."

"Jason, you act as if I'm unfamiliar with the concept of roughing it." She pushed her chair away from the table and began to clear away their dishes. "While I tidy up, feel free to take a look at my notes, maybe something will help you with your case." She made her way to the sink and began to rinse the dishes, then placed them in the dishwasher. He had been stealth like in his approach, and had managed to wrap her up within a warm embrace, which she easily melted into.

"Elle," a light kiss was placed on the back of her neck that sent a shiver through her, "I don't," and another kiss, "feel like," he turned her within his embrace, "work right now." He whispered and stole yet another kiss. She returned his butterfly like kisses with passion filled kisses of her own. Playing with the buttons on his shirt, they moved towards the bedroom.

Morning roused her from sleep and she felt the warmth of the body that still lay beside her. He hadn't risen as yet, had contented himself with watching her sleep. Knowing that he had a case to work, she moaned and threw the blanket and sheets aside— before getting out of bed, she kissed him tenderly.

"I'll make the coffee, will you have something to eat before you leave?" she inquired, cinching the tie of her navy blue satin housecoat. He watched her with a wide grin, checked the time and nodded. "There's shaving cream and a razor in the vanity." She added before leaving him to ready himself for another day. He ventured into the adjoining bath and closed the door behind.

He emerged with a fresh perspective and found Elle at the kitchen table reading the paper and drinking coffee.

"What's this?" he read the head line and cringed. "They get a story and run with it, don't they?" he sat and she let the paper fall to the table and they ate.

"Please take my notes with you." She watched as he took his plate to the sink and returned to table. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and reached over her shoulder for the notepad.

"Thank you. I'll see you again tonight?" she smiled and nodded. "Have a good day." He got his jacket and she walked him to the door, grabbing one last kiss before closing and locking it behind him.

* * *

The precinct was a buzz with officers discussing the various cases— more so their copy-cat, as once again over night the un-sub had struck. It was a university student who had stayed late with her research team and their professor to complete the preliminary work for a study they were conducting. As the news travelled around them, the media carrying on the loudest buzz— the team worked alongside the police, hoping that they would catch him before another young woman fell victim to the un-sub. 

"Sir, I think you'll want to see this." Prentiss arrived waving a tape. Both Gideon and Hotchner looked her way and she popped the tape into a nearby VCR. Prentiss had procured the security tape from campus security and they had been lucky to have been able to follow their latest victim to their un-sub. "Do you think Garcia can use this to get us a better shot of the un-sub?"

"It's possible." Morgan said taking a good look at the couple on the screen. "It's really blurry." He grinned.

"What?"

"Garcia always loves a challenge." He added. "I'll call my girl and we'll have someone get that to Quantico." He flipped open his phone. "Hey doll, we need your magic touch." He said in his most flattering tone.

"Oh really?" he could hear the gentle keystrokes, like music in the background. "What are we talking about?" she reframed from her usual banter.

"Garcia?"

"Yes Morgan." She paused and turned her attention to one of her various monitors. She had the Winter's case up and was going through the plethora of reports concerning that un-sub. "What do you have for me?"

"Prentiss, being her ever so persuasive self got last night's surveillance tape from the university campus security." Morgan explained their situation.

"Not a problem. Once I get the tape, I'll have an actual face to put a name to." She turned to another monitor where the latest news cast was running.

"Thanks sweetie." He cooed and she perked up.

"No problem hot stuff." She paused for a moment. "The tape?" she inquired as she jotted a note on a hot pink Post-it.

"Is on the way." He said and tossed it towards Prentiss to take to Quantico. She caught it and literally flew out the door.

To Be Continued…


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I have a disclaimer… I know it's somewhere :D

This part was difficult to actually write. I knew what was going to happen, I just had to find the order. I'm not sure if what transpires is plausible as I haven't actually 'tried it out', but it is a story after all.

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part XV

It was only a matter of time before the team closed in on their un-sub. Garcia, as per the norm and as per Morgan's request, worked a little magic and it wasn't long after, that they had the name and address. All that remained was to pick him up before he lured another woman to her slow and painful death. Armed with that information a powerful surge of energy made its way through the precinct as Gideon stood at the helm, file in hand; poised to hammer out a plan of attack. Ideas were quickly tossed about like a ball in King's court and they quickly assembled their teams. The BAU would lead, hopefully take him by surprise and quietly— while Virginia PD followed and, if the need arose, make the arrest. Everyone appeared to be satisfied with the plan and divided themselves into teams accordingly— the pairs filed out to their cars and headed to the address double time.

The officers blocked off the street, which would prevent a possible car chase, the remaining swarmed the outer perimeter, and the BAU grouped themselves at the front door. A sprinkle of lights illuminated various windows— an indication of someone present within the home. Giving the signal, Prentiss rang the doorbell— after all, there was always the off-chance that their un-sub wasn't home and they didn't want to frighten those who were. Soft muttering could be heard from the other side of the door, something akin to cursing whomever it was that they had forgotten their keys. The chain left on, the pale face of an elderly woman could be seen in between the door and frame.

"Can I help you miss?" her voice raspy, yet warm despite it's sharp edges. Shocked, Prentiss smiled sweetly and nodded.

"I was wondering if Alexander King was here." She produced her wallet and flashed her badge quickly.

"What did he do this time?" she uttered under her breath, "hang on." She added and closed the door. Gideon heard the metal on metal as it rubbed together, then the metal against wood as she re-opened the door. "If he isn't doing one thing, it's something else." She looked out onto the street. "Well then, it must be pretty bad if the FBI is on my doorstep." She rolled her large green eyes.

"We just have some questions that he may have the answers to." Prentiss kept her calm façade, her face as inviting as she could manage.

"He said that he was meeting up with some friends on campus— something about a pub night." The older woman took a sharp breath and sighed. "I'm sorry that I can't be of any help. If you leave your card, I can ask him to give you a call when he gets in." she leaned against the doorframe for support. Prentiss glanced over towards Gideon for a nod— something to indicate that she was doing the right thing.

"Here's my card." She handed the woman the card and watched as she wobbled slightly and closed the door tightly— the sharp sound of the chain heard once more before Gideon spoke.

"She's telling the truth. I highly doubt that she would know the horrors." He sighed and headed towards the SUV. "Emily."

"Yes sir." She replied and lengthened her stride to match his.

"We're going to the university. Check out this pub night. Who knows, we may actually get lucky." She climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door with a thud.

"Gideon, are you sure that she's ready for this?" Hotchner whispered. Reid and Morgan had already headed towards another SUV. Gideon thought for a moment.

"If not, she'll never be ready." He replied simply. "Besides, you and Morgan will be following and we'll have two uniforms for back up."

"I'm still not comfortable with that. I'd rather you take Morgan."

"Trust me." Gideon said and got into the driver's seat. Starting the SUV, he waited for Hotchner and the rest of the envoy to ready themselves, then put it into gear and navigated through the streets to the university.

"Sir, what if we're too late? What if he already has his newest victim? Shouldn't we split up and have a team check out the dump site?" he thought carefully for a moment.

"Call Hotch and tell him that we're going to the dump site." He instructed and she quickly pulled out her cell phone. He heard her side of the conversation and could very well guess Hotchner's reaction— never a good thing. Passing by the university, Gideon pulled down the street that led to the nearby park— then pulled the SUV over.

"Sir?" Prentiss turned and glared at him.

"I don't want him knowing that we're on to him. The moment he sense us, he'll run." Gideon had witnessed it many times before— run or worse, and he didn't want to think of that at the moment, he had to remain focused.

He got out of the SUV and his eyes immediately rose to the moonless sky. With a quick nod, he headed towards the park's entrance with Prentiss following closely on his heels. The paved path was flanked with high lamps that cast an eerie, ghostly, yellowish tinge to the pavement. Approaching the last of the lamps, the ominous glow captured Gideon face, deepening the wrinkles that softened the once sharp features. It seemed as though they collectively held their breath and turned off the path most travelled; and cautiously headed towards the sound of the flowing river that ran through the park. With no lamps to shed their odd glow, Gideon and Prentiss would have to allow their eyes to adjust to the near blackness that seemed to close in around them— as even the diamond-like stars could not poke through the muslin-like clouds that moved across the vast, deep, rich, royal night sky.

Not liking the fact that they hadn't waited for backup, Prentiss drew her firearm. A loud snap immediately caught their attention and with a sharp gasp, Prentiss spun around to greet whoever it was with her gun.

"Easy." Gideon whispered. Cocking his head, he turned his ear towards the near pitch darkness as if listening to something that she couldn't quite hear, and tuned, straining to hear— the sounds at first were faint. The thumping of heavy footsteps combined with the scuffling sound of shoe soles against the ground of a heavily wooded area. Gideon motioned with a quick hand gesture in the direction of the sound, which suddenly ceased. With her gun poised to fire— covering Gideon, she followed suit and they continued to carefully follow in the direction the sounds had been heard. As they approached, the distinct sound of soft whimpers grew louder. Gideon brought his index finger to his lips and she nodded her understanding— he then retrieved his firearm and motioned for her to ready herself to pounce.

"FBI!" Gideon hollered— the shadow seemed to ignore the fact that he had two guns drawn on him; he merely pulled the woman off the ground to her feet by her hair and turned around to face the agents; pressing the knife against the young woman's throat— dangerously close to the jugular. Her breathing was short gasps of fear, the whites of her near bugged eyes picked up a touch of the sliver of moonlight that had managed to break through the thick cotton candy-like clouds.

"One step closer and she's as good as dead!" the gruff voice of the un-sub shouted back at them. Prentiss watched as Gideon stepped back and slowly placed his firearm back in the leather holster that resided on his right hip, and then just as slowly raised his empty hands.

"Sir?" she looked at him puzzled.

"Just trust me." He whispered. It was one of his favourite methods to catch an un-sub off guard— a tactic he had used with Elle on her first case.

"Let the girl go." Gideon's voice remained calm, despite the fact that it sounded hollow in the night. It was still just the two of them and Prentiss didn't trust the un-sub as far as she could spit. Put my gun away, I don't think so; she thought and continued to cover Gideon— placing herself in a strategic position.

"I mean it! One more step." He shook slightly and the girl continued to mummer— to quietly beg for him not to hurt her. Lucky for her they had arrived when they had, or else she would most likely be experiencing a slow and dreadfully painful death. She tried to pull away from him, but he kept an arm tightly around her waist. Gideon took a deep breath and heard Prentiss' soft voice— probably speaking to Hotchner; making him aware of their situation.

It felt as if time stood still. Waiting for one of them to move, waiting for the climax and conclusion of the stand off. Gideon wasn't sure exactly what the outcome would be— at this point, he could only hope for the best. This situation bore the unmistakable imprint of the Vogel case in Seattle, yet he knew that he couldn't use the same formula. In this case, he had to let the un-sub believe that he, indeed held the power; this would hopefully allow him to catch him off guard and save the victim.

"So what is this? You're not creative enough— smart enough that you had to steal another's signature?" he knew the words would throw him off— he knew that taunting the younger man would eventually provoke a response, yet he stood firmly in place with the young woman wrapped tightly within his strong arm. "Winter's at least managed to 'have' his intended victim; right now you must be mighty frustrated."

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh is that what you think? Then why don't you tell me." Gideon could hear the commotion not far behind him and was happy for the approaching backup— all that remained was to keep the victim alive until they caught up. The clouds seemed to part once more and for a moment he and Prentiss caught sight of the blood that ran down her slender neck, working its way towards her shirt. She tried to squirm within his arm, not doubt against the pain, in an attempt to free herself; however, there would be no satisfaction and the closing clouds cast them back in an odd shadow like darkness. Gideon kept his hands up where they could be seen, Prentiss still held her finger ready to pull the trigger if the need arose— and the team closed in around their un-sub, who was now breathing in nervous, short gasps of breath that escaped his slightly parted lips and created a condensation filled cloud of smoke.

"What do you think the papers will say? You're just a lowly copy-cat, paying homage to his favourite serial rapist/murderer and nothing more. You won't receive the same level of recognition. That is, of course, assuming that's what you're truly after." His words were sharp and biting, hitting each and every nerve that ran through the un-sub's body— finally finding and striking the last one.

"You bastard!" the un-sub literally threw the young woman at Gideon and somehow in doing so, managed to grab Prentiss— he held her gun under her chin. Gideon brushed the hair away from her face and heard loud footsteps behind them. Hotchner grabbed her and picked her up, carrying her towards the awaiting emergency vehicles.

"Gideon!" it was the first time she hadn't referred to him as sir and his head snapped up in response. He could see the contrast of the gun against her pale skin and took a deep breath.

"Now Alexander, don't do anything stupid." Gideon maintained his calm exterior, even though a shiver ran through his body.

"So you do know my name?"

"I do, and from where I stand, its check in three, possibly checkmate." Gideon paused and took a hesitant step forward so that he could see the younger man's face. He had assumed that Prentiss had been trained in hand-to-hand, so he wasn't really too concerned with her not being able to take care of herself— it was; however, an unsteady un-sub with a gun pressed under the chin of one of his agents that upset him. He wanted to calm the situation without further bloodshed.

"Let her go." Gideon took another step towards Alexander.

"Get back or I swear I'll blow her head off!" he yelled and Gideon could sense the terror that her rigid body language revealed. Gideon stood firmly in place.

"What do you think you'll accomplish in killing an FBI agent? You do that and we get you, you'll never see the light of day."

"I'm already screwed." He shouted back. Gideon took that and advanced another step. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME ANY CLOSER!!!" his voice boomed and everyone heard the shot as it cracked through the air. Prentiss had somehow managed to shift her body weight and slam him to the ground, quickly cuffing him while others closed in. In the scuffle no one noticed Gideon drop to his knees as he clutched at the burning sensation in his left shoulder.

"Gideon!" Morgan and Reid ran as fast as they could to his side while Prentiss handed Alexander to the awaiting officers. She hadn't noticed that the stray bullet, the bullet meant for her had found a target. Turning towards the source of the new commotion, Prentiss grabbed Hotchner and they tried to help. Hotchner immediately had the paramedics informed of the situation. Reid had pulled off his sweater and was pressing it against the gushing wound, trying to stop the bleeding long enough for help to arrive.

Gideon had been laid out on the ground and could only see the looks of shock and concern on the faces that surrounded him— his team. He tried to reach up, but his arm refused.

"Elle." He whispered quietly before a wave of dizziness combined with nausea; he closed his eyes against the pain and all went black. The paramedics stabilised him and loaded him into the ambulance ready to take him to the hospital. Hotchner stood with his team and watched.

"Alexandria Hospital is where we're taking him. Agent Hotchner do you want to ride with us?" one of the paramedics called to him. He turned towards his team.

"Meet me there." He said in a surprisingly calm tone. They nodded their ascent and quickly made their way to the SUVs. Reid sat silently in the back seat and wrung his blood covered hands, wishing it had been a nightmare— he'd wake up soon enough.

"Why did he call out for Elle?" Morgan said under his breath as he sped down the streets.

"I don't know." Prentiss replied and rested her head on the head rest and closed her eyes against the bright lights of the street lamps and other traffic.

Meanwhile in the ambulance, Hotchner watched as they kept Gideon stable and tried to think positively.

"Elle." Gideon's voice was weak and quickly brought Hotchner back to reality. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on Gideon's other shoulder. "Tell her I'm okay?" he then murmured something completely incoherent and Hotchner sighed quietly as he felt the ambulance slow to a halt. They whisked Gideon away to be assessed and Hotchner pulled his cell from his pocket. It had been a while since he had called Elle and wasn't completely sure if she hadn't changed her number— he had to at least try and get in touch with her.

"Hello?" her voice was soft— she was probably expecting Gideon's call. He paused and cleared his throat.

"Elle, it's Hotchner." His tone gave the reason away in an instant.

"This is bad isn't it?" worry replaced softness and she took a sharp breath.

"Gideon's been shot and he was asking for you on the ride to the hospital."

"Where?"

"Alexandria Hospital." He replied and stood just outside the emergency door waiting for the rest of the team.

"I'm on my way." She cradled the phone and gathered her purse, keys and coat before heading out the door.

To Be Continued…


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Well here is the almost last chapter of the story. I had 5,000 words to contend with and thought it best to split them. The next half is in 'editing' and I hope to have it posted soon. I apologise for the wait. Also, I always like to hear what you think, so please take the time to drop a line. As usual, enjoy:)

Oh and before I forget the disclaimer, as always, is in the first chapter. I think I'm going to change that in the future.

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part XVI 

In a dream-like state, the team found themselves surrounded by a thick cloud of near deafening silence— when it should have been a happy time, not a bitter-sweet conclusion to their case. On one hand, the un-sub had been apprehended, which was always a good thing; on the other, they found themselves helplessly awaiting news of Gideon's condition. Usually the apprehension of an un-sub gave the team a brief moment to catch their collective breath prior to receiving their next case— a momentary pause, a sigh of relief, a quiet celebration prior to the inevitable storm. However, in this particular instance, this case refused them such luxury— as recent events overshadowed the bright side and an incredibly eerie sense of déjà vu had worked itself into their veins like ice water as the team unintentionally took over a small lounge in wait.

To Morgan's surprise even Garcia, who liked hospitals about as much as the gruesome photographs and audio/visual files she had been subjected to had arrived— sticking to his side like glue. Sensing her discomfort, he placed a warm, comforting hand on her back and she responded by leaning into his caring caress. None of them could ever forget the last time they had felt so incredibly helpless— it had been when they had nearly lost Elle. In this case being able to actually band together, yet having no actual power to do anything only fuelled their collective feeling of fear and anxiety. Despite their darkest fears, an unspoken understanding ran beneath the surface— they all knew that he would pull through; they could be as certain of that fact as they all knew how incredibly tough he was.

Hotchner rubbed at his eyes and glanced up at the clock before excusing himself from the tired, down faces of his team mates— citing the need for some air. The automatic glass doors parted and a gust of winter wind nearly chilled him to the bone as it caressed his exposed face and neck. He stood in defiance against the cold with his hands shoved deeply in his coat pockets just outside the large sliding doors— taking much-needed, deep, controlled breaths. The sharp ring of his cell phone tucked safely within his suit jacket was ignored as he couldn't be bothered; his dark gaze fixed upon the lone woman who walked briskly towards him.

"How is he?" her voice was small and slightly unsteady, filled with emotion and mixed with concern. He shook his head and took another deep breath.

"Gideon is still in surgery— I'm so very sorry Elle." His eyes focused on the wet pavement that caught the shimmer of the bright lights and then with another deep breath, fixed his intense gaze back upon her— she watched as the hot exhaled breath turned into a puff of condensation-filled smoke in the crisp night air. She tilted her head to the side and the soft glow caught her eyes and revealed the pinkish tint around the lower eyelids— he quickly concluded that she had been crying and somehow had managed to pull herself together. "If it's any consolation, Gideon was right. It was checkmate for us. Alexander King is now in police custody and facing a plethora of charges." He waited to see her reaction to the news, hoped that it might have an impact; yet it truly hadn't done much in the sense of removing the dazed expression that had etched itself upon her face. That mixed with something that he could tell went far beyond concern. Hotchner knew that he had always been good at his job; however, Elle had somehow managed to be a mystery to him. Tonight, possibly for the first time, she had let her guard down just long enough for him to get an actual read on her— something that he had not had the opportunity to achieve when she was on the team, as she had nearly been as successful as Gideon in maintaining a guarded front. She silently ran a comforting hand down his arm in understanding and he responded by pulling his hands out of his pockets and wrapped an arm around her slumped shoulders. Elle allowed herself to lean into his embrace and they stood in a shared silence— a silence that granted the complexities of the current situation to disappear and be replaced with a moment of simplicity that wrapped itself around them like a soft blanket of reassurance. Maintaining the silence, Hotchner led her through the automatic doors towards the elevators.

When they entered the lounge, Elle was greeted with various soft words of comfort as she and Hotchner sat amongst the team as Father Time dragged the second hand around the clock— ever so slowly ticking the minutes into hours. No one dare move from their place; except for Prentiss, who stood off to the side with her arms folded tightly across her chest. She was the only one who paced from one side of the room to the other. Hotchner looked around at the faces that illustrated the various stages of near exhaustion and decided that it was for the best to request that they go home and get some rest— something that should have been done hours ago; now it was time to formalise it.

"There really isn't much that any of us can do, except wait. You've all done an outstanding job— I think that it's best that you guys go home and get some rest. Once I speak with the doctors, I will call you with the outcome." He gestured for them to file out. It seemed as though it took a few minutes for his words to sink in and finally, they nodded their acceptance and huddled around Elle once more before filing out.

Hotchner's chiselled features softened as he watched the yawn Elle had tried to suppress make its presence known. He closed the gap between them, carefully reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze, letting her know that he was there if she needed him.

"Elle." She turned her face to face him. "You know for a fact that Gideon's going to get through this. He's stubborn as all get out." His voice was a soothing wave in her ears— she hadn't been used to hearing him speak with such a calming softness that she couldn't prevent her head from mindlessly bobbing in agreement. She knew, after all, that he was right.

"Thank you." She attempted to smile, but her glossy raspberry lips refused the order. "I really appreciate your calling me." She in turn tapped his knee gently and both heard someone clearing their throat, looked up in unison at the doctor who stood in the doorway, signing some paperwork for the nurse that stood waiting behind him.

"Agent Hotchner?" he inquired and Hotchner turned his attention towards the doctor with a nod— his bangs fell over his forehead. The nurse took the binder as the doctor placed the pen in its place in the pocket of his white coat. "I'm Doctor McAdams. Agent Gideon is out of surgery and in recovery under observation. He will be moved to his room within a few hours. I am pleased that the surgery went as expected and he should make a quick recovery."

"Thank you Doctor McAdams." Hotchner said quietly; the doctor nodded with a warm smile and left him with Elle— relief quickly replaced the worry on her face. Smiling, he turned to her.

"Hotch you really ought to go home. You need your rest. Besides, Haley's probably beside herself freaking out that you're not home." She said and was finally able to smile through the fear, yet tears of relief welled up in her eyes. "I'll stay with him until he wakes. Your family needs you." They stood and she steered him towards the elevators. He paused in his long stride and turned to her.

"Elle, are you sure? I mean, I can wait with you until they move him—if you want. Just let me call the team and let Haley know that everything is going to be just fine." He didn't hear Elle's protest; he walked with purpose down the long, lightly lit, quiet hallway towards the public telephone. He picked up the receiver and started to dial a number— all Elle could do was watch in wonder as she pressed herself against the painted metal doorframe for support. Man is fate a twisted son of a bitch; she mused bitterly and turned, rolling herself off the doorframe and plunked herself in one of the empty chairs.

"Elle?" a soft, gentle smile on the young nurses lips.

"Yes?" she replied looking up at the nurse.

"He said that you were beautiful, but his description hardly did you justice. Agent Gideon has been asking for you for quite some time now." Her voice was quiet and calming, she led them down the hallway towards Gideon's room. "One at a time please, he's still quite groggy." She smiled once more and headed to the nurses station. Hotchner motioned for Elle to go first— after all Gideon had been asking for her. She nodded wordlessly. He observed her as she squared her shoulders and with one last deep breath, entered the lightly lit room.

As she took the first steps into the room, an odd felling crept though her. Is this how he felt? She wondered if his feelings had been mixed with a generous sprinkle of fear as well. With her senses on overload; every sound appeared far louder than it truly was. The sharp staccato sounds of various monitors that broke through the silence accompanied the pounding of her heart as it beat frantically in her chest as if attempting to escape. She timidly approached his bed and paused at the foot for a moment, just observing the expanse of his broad chest as it rose and fell to its own steady rhythm. The involuntary sigh seemed to meld with the existing sounds around them and she allowed herself to take another, more confident step towards him. It greatly pained her to see him lying on a hospital bed, a light blanket over him, amongst the numerous tubes distributing medications; and wires that recorded his vitals. She tenderly reached out for his hand and ever so gently, as if it may break, picked it up and pressed her lips against the soft skin of his knuckles. He stirred slightly at the sensation, yet found it difficult to speak as his mouth was uncomfortably dry.

"Elle?" his voice sounded weak. He fought against heavy lids in an attempt to open his eyes— yet they refused him. "Elle, is that you?" he said with a bit more force, his voice raspy in her ears and his parched lips formed a smile that only increased in wattage as he won the fight and his eyes focused upon her. He squeezed her hand and she responded by leaning in towards him and lovingly kissing his forehead.

"Jason, don't speak." She cooed with her forehead pressed against his, they're noses also lightly touching. "I'm here." She slowly unwrapped one of her hands from his and affectionately caressed his cheek with comforting strokes. "Hotch is here too, if you'd like to see him. They wouldn't allow us to visit you at the same time because you're supposed to be resting." She said quietly and he managed to reach up and capture her chin with cool clammy fingers.

"That would be nice." He managed quietly. Nodding quickly, she left him for a moment to where Hotchner patiently waited outside his door. Just a scratch my ass, she thought.

"How is he?" Hotchner inquired softly so that Gideon wouldn't hear.

"What can I say? You were right." She beamed and grabbed his arm for support before he went to visit his colleague— his friend.

When Hotchner finally emerged from the room, he found Elle crouched against the wall, her elbows resting on her thighs and her head in her hands, with eyes closed. While waiting, she had probably pressed her back against the wall, using it for support and sunk down so that she sat on her heels.

"Jason's asking for you." He held out a hand, which she accepted and he assisted her to her feet in one fluid motion.

"You're going home to get some rest right?" she cocked a brow and he nodded his agreement. "Good." She quickly hugged him, past forgotten, and returned to Gideon's side. She gently brushed her fingers along his forehead and then sat in the chair beside him. Reclaiming his hand once more, she held it tightly within her own.

* * *

Unbeknown to the team, news of Gideon's condition quickly spread like an uncontrollable wild fire. The team had been given time off to nurse the emotional wounds sustained as a direct result of the outcome of their last case. Ironically, they had all agreed that they would spend that time visiting Gideon. To their surprise, they found Elle curled up in the obviously uncomfortable chair beside his bed holding his hand and cradling her head in the crook of her arm. Not to their surprise, Gideon, who appeared to watch over her as she slept, was in exceptionally good spirits. Against Gideon's wish, Morgan gently ran his fingers along her back, waking her— in response, she nearly jumped out of her skin. 

"How long have you been here?" Hotchner asked from his place beside Garcia. She slowly lifted her head, her hair falling into place around her shoulders. Not realising that Gideon had contented himself to watching her sleep, she shook her head. "Did you even go home?"

"No." she replied groggily and stretched the stiffness from her muscles. "Congratulations by the way for taking down that un-sub." She smiled and stood.

"Why don't you and I grab a coffee?" Reid inquired lightly and she nodded her reply with a grateful smile.

"Have a nice visit. I'll see you guys in a bit." She picked up her purse and followed Reid out of the room; that seemed to come alive with conversation, to the cafeteria. They placed and paid for their orders at the counter, the lady behind the till pleasant like most of the hospitals employees. They entered the bright space and found a table for two beside one of the large, floor to ceiling tinted windows.

"So when are you coming back?" Reid asked as they took their seats. The corners of her lips fell into a frown.

"You don't waste any time do you?" she tilted her head.

"Sharp shooter, remember?" he gently blew over the rim in an attempt to cool the steaming liquid enough to drink. She smiled at the memory and mirrored his actions.

"Well other than when I have actually given it any thought, I haven't exactly had the time." She replied and after taking the first sip, placed the paper cup on the table in front of her.

"Apparently Emily is in the dog house." Reid offered her a bone.

"Really?" her eyebrow shot up in interest and resting her arms on the tabletop, she leaned forward.

"I guess Hotch and Gideon didn't have a chance to tell you."

"Tell me what exactly? That it was because of her that Jas, uh Gideon got shot." She quickly corrected herself.

"Well, yes there is that, but there's far more to it than meets the eye." He looked down into the coffee cup in an attempt to avoid Elle's intense stare. "Apparently, she's under review for her actions. It would seem that there has been another instance." He paused in thought for a moment. "In any case, if all goes badly, which I suspect it will, she will be removed from the team." He looked away for a brief moment to cover the indifferent expression he couldn't prevent.

"So in essence Reid, what you're saying is that it looks as though there will be a vacancy on the team in the relatively near future." Elle's expression changed, softened ever so slightly. In response, he nodded and smiled brightly. "Don't you dare even think it!" she shot back at him playfully and he faked a wounded look. He held up his hands, his long fingers spread appearing far leaner than they truly were.

"Okay, okay, I don't if you don't wish me to." He paused. "Last I heard she's been in meetings with all the big shots. I suppose we'll be informed of their decision once its reached." He finished the last gulp of coffee and watched as Elle did the same before he took her cup and tossed it, along with his own in the garbage. "In any case, I hope that you'll be starting as soon as possible." He laughed when she nudged him and they made their way back upstairs to Gideon's room.

To Be Continued…


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: To the readers I just want to thank everyone for their patients while I worked through this piece (hopefully it was indeed worth the wait). I'm seriously surprised that I had the motivation to actually follow through from start to end with all of the craziness that seems to be that which we commonly refer to as 'real life' and whatnot constantly interrupting the process. Once again, that you all so very much for taking the time to read and leave reviews (I've really appreciated the 'dialogue' that reviews create; sometimes even shifting the inspiration/direction of the piece).

The disclaimer is in the first chapter of the piece. And without stalling any further, the final 'chapter'.

* * *

Pull Me Through: Part XVII 

From time immemorial, the pesky rumour mill has always appeared to be a rather interesting entity— which just so happened to be in full force in the circulation of Gideon being shot; and just as quickly his swift return. Of course, he would not officially rejoin the team in the field until he was completely medically fit; however, his input would no doubt be instrumental to the team's upcoming cases. He sat at his desk catching up on the numerous files that had piled up— cases long forgotten; memories, both good and bad, rushed to the surface nonetheless, making it feel as though it were only yesterday. One case file in particular, a case that had somehow managed to tuck away, in the far reaches of his mind had made its way to the top of the heap. The Garner case still required a complete report, which he had thought long taken care of. He was slow and deliberate in his movements and finally flipped the file open— his eyes fell upon the crime scene photographs of Elle's flat and he let the deep sigh of his mistake escape his lips— that miscalculation nearly cost her, her life and he still felt terribly responsible for the events of that night. Knew that had he gone a different route, not allowed himself to become as drawn into the sick game of their un-sub, none of what transpired would have and Elle would never have been shot, would never have just up and left the team without so much as a goodbye.

It was so easy for her to wear a mask— easily shielding any emotion that she may have been experiencing as she stood and stared at the desk that had been given to her on her first day. Once the initial shock had lifted and most of the dust settled, she now had to deal with the consequences of her actions. Now she only stared at the object in indifference. It had never felt as though it were truly hers— nor in truth had she made any effort to add a photograph, a mug, or anything for that matter that individualised it from the others in the bullpen. Yet it always felt as though Elle would arrive; and due to that return, Emily would find herself removed from the team. Never had she imagined that this is how they would resolve the issue; a transfer. It felt as though the empty box was mocking her and she stared it down. However, she soon realised that there would be very little to place within and she quickly removed anything that did belong to her before closing the lid tightly. She fiddled with the contents of the file before placing it on top of the box and heading towards Hotchner's office. His door, as per the norm was open and she easily balanced the box between the doorframe and her slender hip before gently tapping the metal. He lifted his head in response to the sound, although expecting her arrival.

"Agent Prentiss." He beckoned her with a quick gesture and she actually found herself quickly looking about his insanely neat office before taking the first step.

"Sir, I have brought the paperwork for the transfer." She placed the box on the empty chair that sat in front of his desk and opened the file to pull out the various sheets that required his signature. "I just wanted to thank you for speaking so highly of me on my behalf at the hearing."

"Emily," he stopped skimming the paperwork and looked up at her. "You are capable of working with the BAU— you merely lack the experience. What happened wasn't completely your fault; and Gideon is well aware of the fact that you were only trying to help. You saw a window of opportunity and decided to use it. What you do need to learn is trust; and not just in your own instincts, rather the team with which you are assigned. That's one of the cornerstones of this team, and no doubt others." He said as he returned his gaze to the many pages, straightened them and began to sign. Once the last bore his elegant signature, he gathered them and held them out for her. "National Security Service will be lucky to have you." His comment held an honesty that helped in alleviating the sense of failure she felt.

"Thank you Sir."

"Emily, look back upon this as an experience. You've learned a great deal from it— that much is obvious to me. Just remember one thing." He paused and she looked down briefly before returning her eyes to his. "Please don't allow this experience to define you."

"Thank you Sir." She wanted to tell him that he was wrong—something prevented her from further discussion as she accepted the proffered papers and placed them back in the file before picking up the box and making her way to her new floor, making her way to a new bullpen, a new nest; and in many ways— a new beginning.

* * *

Gideon heard the gentle pitter-patter of rain as it was blown against the windows— he sighed at the thought of yet another rainy winter evening. Being that he was still recovering from his injury, Elle arrived on his doorstep with a bottle of fine wine in hand ready to prepare a succulent meal. Gideon had already dressed the table with fresh, crisp linens that were softened by the candle light and music that played softly in the background— a combination that created an enchanting ambience for two; that and the fact that it complemented the meal, the wine, and conversation beyond perfection. Once the dishes were cleared and the coffee made— they entangled themselves comfortably, yet carefully within the worn sofa cushions, which seemed to gently cradle their bodies, as they enjoyed a moment of mutual silence. 

"What's on your mind? You've been exceptionally quiet this evening." Elle inquired as she shifted carefully so that she could sit face-to-face. She then tucked her long leg underneath her and leaned her torso casually against the sofas soft cushions.

"I've been thinking." She knew exactly what he had been thinking about; the wistful look that captured his eyes seemed to reveal all.

"Perhaps Reid's inquiry had been incited by you and Hotch?" a smile played with the corners of her deep glossy berry lips. He raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps yes, perhaps no— that all depends on whether or not it was successful." His wink accompanied the mischievous smile that he could no longer hide from her. Absently, she ran her fingers through her hair and looked down briefly before slowly lifting her eyes up through thick lashes to meet his mock intense gaze— once her dark eyes locked with his, his heart began to melt. "I've always been good in not pressuring you to make a decision." He paused. "Tell me that you haven't thought about it— seriously thought about the possibility of returning." She reached out and tenderly ran her finger along his jaw line and allowed her hand to rest at the open top button on his deep burgundy shirt.

"Gideon, it really isn't that simple. It greatly complicates things. It's more a question of whether or not a relationship is appropriate. Whatever this is, I've been enjoying it immensely and I don't want to lose what we have in order to return to the BAU. It's an equal trade off." He could hardly believe his ears— how could giving something so important to her be equal in any way?

"Elle, honey, I've seen such a wonderfully amazing change in you. Whatever it is that you decide, I just want you to be happy." He gently took her hands in his and held them tightly for emphasis. "I recall a time when you were beyond happy. I always thought that the BAU was what made you so." He said softly.

"For a time, it was." She stopped herself from continuing, half afraid of the tears that might win over her. He shifted closer towards her and caressed her cheek as if to distract her. "I worked so hard for that sport, so hard to prove to you and Hotchner that I was worthy of it. After being shot and nearly dying, things changed. My perspective changed and when the whole Lee incident happened, I couldn't help but question so many things. Not just myself, but the team as well." She covered his hand with hers and brought his palm to her lips. "For the first time in a long while, things are starting to make sense." She added.

"Hotchner is well aware of this— us; and I'm fairly certain that the team is as well. If you and Hotchner can resolve your issues— I know for a fact that what we have will always be safe." He illustrated his point by gently cupping her chin and gingerly leaned into her and captured her lips with his. When they parted, he closed his eyes for a brief moment and winced against the sudden rush of pain to his shoulder.

"Just a scratch you say?" she teased and got up to go to the kitchen to get the bottle of pain medication that he kept beside the kitchen sink and was quick in returning with the bottle and a glass of water. "Here you go." She said softly.

"Thank you." He said quietly and quickly took the prescribed dosage. "I will feel better momentarily." He sat back into the sofa and crossed his right ankle over his left knee— a pose that she had grown accustomed to seeing from him. "As you know that spot has become available." He smiled and seemed to allow the hope be seen in his eyes, darkened by the shadow.

* * *

She stepped off the elevator and made her way down the familiar, ever bustling hallway towards the hub of the bullpen of the BAU. She may have only been away for several months, yet it felt as though she had never truly left. As a pair of agents exited, one held the tempered glass door open for her with a bright smile of recognition. 

"Thanks." She said with a happy grin and then made her way towards Gideon's office. She stood at his door and watched him for a moment as he sat at his cluttered desk, sitting back in his worn leather chair with a book cradled on his lap— making notes on a yellow pad of paper that she couldn't quite make out from the distance. He seemed to sense her lurking in his doorway and lifted his head in acknowledgement. The smile on his lips only grew at her presence.

"Well hello there stranger. Do come in." he motioned for her to enter and have a seat— she actually had to move a stack of books from one of the old, worn, and slightly frayed leather seats. She suddenly felt like the student in the professor's office, Gideon seemed so overly authoritative sitting behind his well utilised desk. "I don't suppose that you're here about the vacancy." He removed his thin, silver wire glasses that were perched upon the bridge of his thin nose. She glanced down at her hands wondering how he had been the only one to ever truly be able to read her.

"I've given it a lot of thought since that night. I thought that I ought to speak with you 'officially' about it first before I speak with Hotch." She rested her hands on a file that sat on her lap.

"You've decided not to return." He seemed not to have heard her, his tone matter-of-fact. She almost couldn't look at him as she felt an odd rush of emotion as it ran down her spine. She didn't wish to stall, and knew full well that taking a deep breath or sighing would make it appear that that was what she was doing— yet how could he so easily draw the that conclusion. Fine, I'll play your game; she mused and collected her thoughts.

"I have just received an amazing job offer and it's far more than I could ever have hoped for." She artfully fumbled for the words and managed to convey the mock emotion to accompany them. He knew she was playing him, yet he played her game with one of his own.

"Elle." He paused as she opened her purse and took out an envelope. She held it out towards him and sat quietly watching as he opened it. Somehow he expected an explanation, yet what he found was exactly what he had hoped.

"Ja— Gideon, I hope that you will accept me as a potential candidate for the opening with the BAU." Her tone sounded official in his ears. He shook his head and smiled brightly.

"When is this official?" he inquired and pushed himself away from behind his desk and walked towards her. "After I." He whispered in her ear and she couldn't stop the blush that worked its way to her cheeks from her toes.

"Perhaps after." She replied and reached up, gently guiding his face towards hers, taking full command of his lips. "Okay, now." She straightened herself in her seat and he chuckled warmly.

"Am I right to think that you and Hotch have worked everything out?" she nodded. "Once you speak with Hotch; your desk is where you left it." He winked at her and she nodded her thanks. "I look forward to having you back on the team." He added as he returned to his desk.

"Thank you." She replied happily and stood. "Catch you later." She smiled brightly and headed towards the door.

Narrowly missing a collision with J.J. on her way to Hotchner's office, Elle caught her balance; however, she couldn't erase the smile that she wore.

"Welcome back." J.J. said with a happy grin as they managed to get by one another. "Oh and before I forget, there are several files on your desk that require your signature before you leave on the next case." She called over her shoulder and ducked into Gideon's office.

"Thanks J.J.!" Elle called after her and continued on her way.

"No problem." She poked her head through the open door. Elle walked briskly to Hotchner's office, realising that they had a feeling that she would return, J.J.'s comments finalising it, yet she had to prepare herself for the worst— that the opening had been filled and J.J. was unaware.

"Morning Elle." He lifted his head form the documents he had been reading. "I hope that you're ready to get back into the groove, so to speak." He looked down briefly and she was happy to hear that the spot was hers once more.

"I'm definitely up for the challenge." She replied and he motioned for her to close the door and have a seat.

"Good, I just wanted to let you know that while relationships within the team are generally frowned upon— seeing that circumstances are what they are— especially in this particular case, as I understand it started around the time you quit. I'm presuming that that won't be an issue."

"Not at all Sir; let's just say that I have taken your advice— I have prioritised. I've spoken with Gideon and we have ironed out the groundwork. Besides, you said yourself that there has to be a dividing line between the home and work— this, albeit a rather different situation, will not adversely affect how I do my job, nor will it Gideon. If I feel that dividing line is blurred in any way, I will of course discuss it with him and should the need arise, with you. Gideon has agreed."

"I just thought that I ought to let you know that the team is aware of your situation— not that they were told; however, in my calling you when Gideon was shot— it happened to be the icing on the cake, so to speak."

"I sensed that. I just didn't want to make an issue of it." She allowed her eyebrows to rise and fall to emphasise her point.

"No worries. The team is tight lipped when the topic of Gideon's shooting comes up, as much as they are with Prentiss' being transferred. The opening left by her transfer and your return has also sparked a bit of debate amongst some of the considered candidates."

"Please just tell me that."

"Your rejoining the team is legitimate?" she nodded. "You have nothing to worry about. The team is well beyond glad to have you back. Before I forget, this is all of the paperwork pertaining to your return. I need your signature here, here— and here." He pointed out the various places and she picked up a pen and quickly signed. "Once you get settled, we'll have our briefing in the round table room."

"Thank you Sir."

"Hotchner, or in your case, Hotch is fine." He smiled as she rose to leave. "And Elle?"

"Yes?"

"It's so good to officially have you back on the team."

"It's really the most amazing feeling to be back." She left him to his paperwork and made her way to the bullpen where Morgan and Reid sat with their heads together. Up to no good, she thought as they parted with her arrival— both smiling broadly.

"Hey Greenaway!" Morgan exclaimed and got up to pull out her chair.

"You better not be spoiling me now Morgan." She smiled widely. "Hey Reid." She added and her eyes fell upon the gold-toned nameplate bearing her name that sat proudly upon her desk. He knew, she thought for a moment.

"It's so good to have you back." Morgan said with a grin. Reid nodded his ascent and Elle shook her head.

"Guys, it's great to be back."

"BAU team— they are ready for us in the round table room." Hotchner announced from his office as he walked briskly to the conference room. Elle felt the unmistakable surge of energy and excitement as it coursed through her veins and in that instant she knew that things would soon be returning to what had once upon a time been 'normal'. The team quickly gathered their notepads and pens before heading towards the conference room and whatever case awaited their immediate attention. Another day, another case— yet having Elle back made things that much sweeter. The family was reassembled once more.

Fin


End file.
